The Book of Bulma
by MyLockedHeart
Summary: Someone has landed on Earth and is now out for vengeance on the Saiyans for the destruction of a now forgotten race, setting their sights on Vegeta, along with another mystery looming that puts Bulma and her family right in the middle.
1. Prologue

**The official first chapter of my revamped series. I know that I've been absent for a while but it was just to get myself back on track in order to write another story for you guys. Hope you enjoy!**

 **P.S. Although I am using chronological events and timelines to shape my story, this is still very much an AU. Please keep that in mind as you continue reading.**

As I brought the jet to a stop in the middle of a circle of trees, I quickly shut off the engine and began to stare blankly out the windshield. I was always the person to think everything through, but I found myself diving in head first. There was no time to think this through.

I closed my eyes and took a heavy breath before jumping out of the vehicle, not bothering to encapsulate it. I began walking forward through the slowly darkening forest.

As calm as my posture may have portrayed me as, my heart felt as if it were being ripped from my chest, piece by piece, little by little, and all that remained was just barely enough to keep me from crumbling to my knees under the weight of the situation.

I walked with my head held high, passing tree after tree, easily navigating the all-too-familiar forest, nothing but the deceptively soothing sounds of nature as my only companion. I looked up. The sunset coloured sky highlighted the greenery and the gentle breeze of the evening caused the leaves to flutter in the wind.

It was picturesque in my mind.

In that very moment it occurred to me. I had spent a decent amount of my time there over the years, and yet it was seldom that I actually took a moment to simply enjoy the beautiful scenery. That day would be no different.

Very suddenly, the ringer of my cellphone cuts through the silence, causing me to flinch a bit, having forgotten that it was even on my person. I removed it from my back pocket and stared at the screen in contemplation for a moment before answering.

I slowed my pace as I tapped the green icon and placed it against my ear. I gave no greeting.

"Bulma?" the voice on the other end said. It was Vegeta. "Bulma, is that you?"

"What is it?" I calmly said.

"I've been trying to tell you that the location was a bust and I still don't know how I'm going to find them, or even where to look."

"I know,"

There was a pause before the expected confused response came. "What do you mean you know?"

I sighed quietly. "I knew that you wouldn't find them there," I confessed.

"If you knew then why the hell didn't you say anything to me before?" It took me so long to answer that he must have drawn his own conclusion. "Bulma, where are you right now?" I said nothing. "Bulma!"

"They're coming for me, so I just thought that I'd meet them in the middle." The reply was one I knew he didn't want to hear, but I gave it nonetheless.

"Where are you?" he angrily repeated.

"I need to do this on my own," I solemnly told him.

"Are you insane? You have no idea what they'll do to you if they find you by yourself. Now tell me where you are!"

"I can't do that."

"What could you possibly hope to achieve by doing this?" He was angry, but I knew that he was trying to contain himself for my sake.

I came to a stop as I crossed a row trees that opened to a cliff. "Vegeta, I have spent far too long running from this." My voice was becoming shaky with each word that passed through my lips. "I'm so tired of running. I can't do it anymore."

"So you're just giving up? Just like that?"

"What else can I to do? I messed up, so I have to handle it."

"You are the most brilliant being I have ever known in my life. Just take a moment to think about what you're doing right now."

And I did. I thought about my family and the bitterness of what had took place. I thought about the hateful words that were regurgitated out of anger and regrettable actions and the aftermath of it all. I shook my head to rid myself of such images. "The time for thinking is over." No more thoughts of the past distorting my path.

"Bulma, what are you saying?" he frantically asked me.

With a heavy heart I said to him "I love you, Vegeta," before pulling the phone away from my ear.

I could still hear him speaking. "Bulma, don't you dare hang u-"

I hung up the phone before he could finish. I removed the sim card and tossed the phone over the cliff's edge.

I walked over to take in the view of the land below. There wasn't a house to be found, not another soul around for miles. I slipped my hands into my front pockets and just stood there silently.

"Well what do we have here?" a voice said from behind me. For whatever reason, I was unaffected by the sudden appearance and just continued to stare out at the open space with my back to them. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Just taking in the view," I calmly replied. I look back over my shoulder to see two black-clad figures standing there.

"Where's your brute?"

"I don't know. Probably on his way to the compound to try tracking my phone."

"You've got some nerve coming here alone," the taller of the two said, and the one doing all the talking.

I ignored the words and turned my attention towards the shorter of the three of us. "Don't you have something to say to me as well?"

"Oh I have plenty." the mask over their mouths slightly muffled their voices and placed shocking green eyes on full display. "But not until I've proven my point."

I turned around completely. "Which is?"

"All in due time." I couldn't see a mouth, but I knew that there was a smirk behind that mask.

"I think you've more than proven your point, don't you think?"

A scoff was heard. "Big, bad Bulma still thinks that she knows it all." they began walking towards me. "You don't have the slightest idea of what my point is."

I decided to meet the figure halfway. "I never claimed to know it all, but I do know you."

She rushed forward, stopping me in my tracks, nearly nose to nose had it not been for the two inches of height I had over her.

"You don't know a damn thing about me!" the figure growled at me.

I stood unafraid and unflinching, staring down into enraged green eyes. "Then enlighten me," I gently said. "Because if your actions were meant to gain my attention, congratulations, you've done it."

"Don't insult me by playing ignorant. Don't stand here as if you've done nothing wrong, as if you were innocent."

"Yes, I have done my share of dirt. No one gets through this life completely unscathed by their trials, and we are of no exception. There are things that I regret, but I have never not owned up to my sins," I said, feeling the need to explain.

"Except the one,"

My eyes broke contact at the realization of what was said to me. "I didn't do it to hurt you."

"Then why?" the figure demanded. I hesitated for a moment. "Tell me why!"

"I'll tell you why," the taller figure interjected. "She did it because that's the type of person she is. Since she couldn't control you, she chose to manipulate you,"

"That's not true," I said to the one in front of me. "I did what I had to do in order to help you. I promise you, my intentions were good. I never thought, in a million years, that my actions would hurt you like this." My voice was pleading at this point and I could have sworn that the green orbs staring at me flickered. "I did what I thought was best at the time,"

Green stared me down for the longest time before a response was made. "I know," and the figure turned and began walking away. "But," they suddenly said, stopping to turn back around. "What was it that you once told me about good intentions?"

I immediately knew what they were referring to, and I sighed heavily before answering. "The path to hell is paved with good intentions."

A hand was raised and aimed towards my face. "Exactly," they said as their palm lit up.

As I closed my eyes, waiting to get what I've had coming, I couldn't help but think about all the mistakes I made that led us to this cliff in the first place.

"I'm sorry,"

* * *

{Weeks Earlier}

As I pulled myself up, small chunks of debris falling off of my back as I did so, I looked around at the ruined space of the always pristine room. The nearby fires and the deafening ringing in my ears confirmed my assumption of what just happened. An explosion.

As I attempted to gather my bearings, vision and hearing now impaired and my head swimming with nausea, I was grabbed by the back of my hair and had my head yanked backwards. I winced and screamed at the pain.

"I was hoping that wouldn't be enough to kill you," a voice said in my ear.

"Why not just get it over with already?" I hissed.

The grip on my hair tightened. "Because your misery has only just begun. I will make you suffer for the pain you have caused, and once you know true suffering, only then will I consider ending your wasted existence,"

"You don't understand, I h-" my hair is yanked hard, silencing me.

"I understand plenty! I understand that you have everyone fooled about you. And with that understanding I will take from you as have from me," the words were spat at me.

"I know how you must be feeling right now, but this will not bring you peace, I promise you," I said, feeling the agony within the words.

"I'm not looking for peace,"

With that, I was released and kicked in the back, sending me falling through what remained of the glass doors. My vision began to darken, the last thing I saw were a pair haunted green eyes.

{10 Years Earlier}

"Get out of my way!" My heart was thumping in my ears as I shoved my way through the crowd of the shocked and saddened faces of my friends and family. Before I could get to the middle of them all, I was grabbed by Yamcha and held back. "What're you doing? Let go of me!"

"Bulma, don't look, please," he sadly pleaded.

I could see just enough past him to be able to spot the pale, bare feet of someone being held by Goku. My eyes went wide with the realization.

"Yamcha, let go of me!" I yelled as I began struggling against him. When he wouldn't let up I grabbed hold of his arm and applied enough pressure to force him to release me.

I ran over to where Goku was standing and stood in front of him. My voice got caught in my throat from the sight of the still form in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Bulma," he told me through restrained tears.

That was it. The tears fell down my face like a waterfall as I couldn't take my eyes from the person in his arms.

"What did you do?!" I screamed at him.

{23 Years Earlier}

Vegeta came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "There was nothing more you could have done,"

I stare down at the wasted possibilities that laid before me. "I really wish that were true," I whispered.

 **Excuse me for being so vague. Did that make you want to keep reading? I hope so. My revamped story is about to begin, and each of those last three passages are from a different entry in this series. If you got the chance to read the original version of this then you will definitely be able to recognize some plot points and notice what I changed. Hopefully I get it right this time. Review this with your thoughts on what you think of me starting it out this way. I need you all to be honest. MLH out!**


	2. Only Happy When it Rains

**" _The greater part of our happiness or misery depends upon our disposition, and not upon our circumstances." -Martha Washington_**

I remember it all so vividly, especially the day it all truly began.

With the day coming to a close, the sound of rustling wind and the loud pitter-patter of rain could be heard from outside. Dark clouds had long been gathering in the October sky since the early morning hours, but it was only a little under an hour prior that the first crack of lightning shattered through the dull gray of the clouds and brought a light drizzle that quickly became a downpour, sending the previously strolling pedestrians of West City running for shelter.

There I stood, safe from the unfriendly fall weather in the confines of my home, in front of the wide open, three panel french doors that led to the balcony of my master bedroom suite. I watched as a curtain of rain shrouded the city in the far distance, drowning out the lights and noises of the still bustling populace below. The wind blew wildly, causing a spritz of water to dampen my skin, but it didn't bother me in the least under the warmth of a thick, gray cardigan over a white V-neck with a pair of acid washed jeans.

I took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the air. There was always something so calming about the rain. So peaceful were the rhythmic sounds of droplets hitting the surface of all things that stood in their path from the heavens to the ground. It was days like this where I would take advantage of a warning of "harsh road conditions" and send my employees home early. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy my work, I just preferred to relax outside my lab. On rainy days, I usually had no interruptions when trying to unwind.

"Bulma,"

I sighed. That day was not one of those days. my arms still loosely wrapped around my middle, I looked back over my shoulder at the sudden voice in my bedroom doorway. "Yeah Mom?"

"Gosh, it's chilly in here!" my mother pointed out, coming farther into the room. "Why I are you just standing there with the doors open like that?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "You know me, just trying to enjoy this weather." I reached forward and closed the french doors, but not before my eyes at something that almost blended with the flashes of lightning in the sky. I searched the clouds for any sign of an anomaly, but found none. Foolishly, I brushed this away before turning to face my mother. "Was there something you needed me for?"

She gave me a confused expression. "You've been up here a while, so I just came to see what was taking so long."

I was supposed to be having dinner with my family that night. The whole reason I came to my room in the first place was to get changed out my work clothes. I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that Mom, I kinda spaced out for a minute there."

Concern began to furrow her brow. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I waved off.

"You sure?"

"Yeah,"

"Are you really sure?"

"Yes, Mother!" I said with humor in my tone as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm just thinking too much, that's all. Now let's get downstairs before the guys start eating without us." I guided us out of the room, through the long, curved hallway and down the flight of stairs. Although I wasn't upset with my mother in any way, I was simply aware of where the questions were leading if we continued.

As we entered the kitchen, we were greeted with the sight my father attempting to strap my son to his booster seat, with a heavy emphasise on attempting. The boy's kicking and thrashing made it very difficult to secure him to the seat. The half-Saiyan always put up a fight when it came to sitting still. As well-behaved as he usually was, him being stuck in a state of play meant trouble for anyone that wasn't me, even if they just so happen to be my parents.

"Oh, isn't this just precious!" Mom fawned over the sight.

My father looked back at us. His glasses sitting crooked on his face and his graying lavender hair was frazzled, obvious signs of his struggle as he continued wrestling with his grandchild, who was clearly having way too much fun, as evident in his jovial laughter.

I giggled at that, my son's laughter was always infectious. "Do you want some help, Dad?" I offered.

"No worries dear, I can do this. I'm wearing him down, I know it!" he proclaimed.

"Good luck with that," I smirked as me and mom took our respective seats at the table. We immediately began making the plates for everyone. I looked over at my father still struggling and decided to take him out of his misery. "Trunks, please, settle down for dear old grandpa,"sI said and watched as the boy instantly calmed, my father to strap him in before I set his plate in front of him on the table.

He cleared his throat, sheepishly, as he straightened his glasses and combed a hand through his hair. "I tired him out for you, just so you know."

"And I thank you for your services, Daddy." I said, jokingly, before making a plate for myself. Once everyone had food in front of them, we simply started to eat. For as long as I could remember, I never recalled my parents to be very religious, so they never bothered to say grace. My father was a man of science and logic, who had certain beliefs, and was a few steps from being an atheist, while my mother was more free-spirited and never liked to be bound by the shackles of religion. Their union was an inspiring one, that raises eyebrows for anyone that didn't know them very well.

I looked around the table at her family. It's moments like that one that made me thankful for what I had in life, and, also, sorrowful that it didn't happen nearly as much as I would have wanted it to. Back in those days, with me being the active president of my father's company and being busier than ever, I tried making more time during the day to spend with my aging son. Even back then, I was aware of how a child could turn out without proper attention from their parents, so I did my best to put in more than enough time for my only child to ensure he didn't become another stereotypical rich kid.

"So, sweetheart, should we be expecting an appearance from Vegeta this evening?" my father asked.

I sighed. "No, he's off somewhere in the mountains. He shouldn't be back until tomorrow," I said with a shrug of my shoulder. My relationship with the man in question, if our situation could even be described as such at the time, had gone from being complicated mess to a complicated normality in my everyday life. It had been close to two years since the ordeal with the androids and peace came upon us, but the Saiyan refused to let up with his training. I had grown used to him being gone for days at a time, without any word of when he would be back. But, despite his frequent absences, Vegeta proved himself to be reliable, especially when it came to certain things involving Trunks. He wasn't the most loving father on the planet, but he made it his business to ensure his son be the best...meaning that he wanted him to be more Saiyan than human, so he declared to begin his training within the next year, even though Trunks would have barely been four-years-old by then. One could suppose that's how Saiyans show love to their offspring.

"Mama, more juice, please." Trunks asked for, having already drank down his sippy cup.

I looked over my left and down at the little boy, who still has more than half a plate of food. "Nuh uh, little man, not until you've finished eating your dinner."

"But Mama!" he pouted, sticking out his bottom lip. I hated when he did that, but only because he knew that my track record was bad whenever it came to him doing that face.

I held my resolve and didn't falter. "No Trunks, you'll get more juice afterwards, and not a moment before. You understand me?" I said, not one to fold so easily.

"Yes Mama," he mumbled, quietly, going back to his meal.

I did the same. "Good," I ended things with, taking a bite of my food. I was a loving mother to him by every definition of the word, but I wasn't so much so that I was going to allow my son to get over me...all of the time.

"Bulma, dear, don't you think you're being a bit harsh on him? He's still so young," Mom said, having caved at the sight of Trunks' pouting face.

"Absolutely not. You have to teach children discipline while they're still young," I disagreed. "These are his most crucial developing years, so the timing is perfect for me to do this," I explained to them. I didn't need to be a child psychologist to know that children needed to be tamed early on in life.

"She makes a valid point, dear," Dad told her.

"Thank you Daddy,"

"I still can't get behind all of these new child rearing techniques," Mom said, idly.

The three us adults at the table began comfortable conversation about children, what will my next model for a line of jets I was working on, and everything else.

"So, how is everything going with finding an event planner for the upcoming season?" Dad asked me.

I took a sip of my water before I answered. "I'm still at it. I met with a few the other day, but I won't make any decisions until I meet with the rest of the applicants later on this week."

"Are you considering any of the ones you've already met?"

"Two of them had some really good ideas, so I'm placing them on my list of potential hires."

"Why so picky, sweetheart?" Mom asked me.

"I'm not being picky," I opposed, but the look she was giving me quickly put a stop to it. "I just want to find someone creative and imaginative enough to be a part of my team," I defended my methods. "Is that so wrong?"

Mom shook her head and smiled at my stubbornness. "I guess not," she went back to eating. "But just know that I'll be coming with you to meet the other applicants."

I sighed. "Fine." I dug back my plate like an angsty teenager. My mother always had a way of bringing out that side of me.

As dinner came to an end, Trunks, at last, finished his food, so I got up to refill his cup with juice. I waited for him to empty his cup before removing him from his seat, bidding my parents goodnight and carried him out of the kitchen. Once upstairs, he and I began our nightly routine of getting ready for bed. As we left the bathroom after his bath, we entered his bedroom.

The room was very spacious, even with all of the furniture and toys. The walls were sea foam green with posters of fictional superheroes on them and one, a circular window with a bench below it. Above were glow in the dark stars, expertly aligned to form constellations, on the smooth, white ceiling that surrounded the light fixture as if it were the sun in the center of the universe. There is a twin-sized bed in the middle of the room and a bunk-bed in the corner, both had wood adorning them. The floor was solid mahogany, as were the rest of the main floors of the house, with only a round carpet at the foot of the bed, littered with toys.

I sighed as I went to his dresser and grabbed him a pair of blue pajamas. "Trunks, go put these on," I said as I handed the toddler his neatly folded clothing. He gave me a nod before running out of his room. "And brush your teeth while you're at it." I called to his fleeting footsteps. I walked towards the middle of the room and began gathering toys off of the floor and into my arms. I took them over to the bench below the window, that also doubled as a chest, and dumped the toys inside. I took a seat on the bench and stared outside.

It had been hours later, and the rain was still coming down heavily. The lights of the city were more pronounced as the night rolled in. I watched, soberly, as raindrops raced down the glass, enjoying the look of various distorted lights that beamed through the droplets.

As I watched drop after drop, something in the distance caught my attention. Far off in the northeast outskirts of the city, slightly to the left from my position, a flashing light could be seen. At first, I thought of shrugging it off as simply lightning from the storm. But as I looked closely at it, my interest peeks once I realized that the light was coming not from the clouds above, but from the ground below.

I had no idea what it was. I narrowed my eyes to see it better, but my focus was interrupted by something grabbing my hand. I looked down to find that my son had finished getting dressed. "Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes Mama,"

I raised a playful eyebrow. "Let me see for myself," I said with humor. Trunks opened his mouth up wide, already used to this part of our routine, showing me all of his clean little baby teeth. "That's my boy," I smiled, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Now, go hop in bed and I'll tuck you in," I told him, gesturing to the bed with a tilt my head.

I watched him walk across the room before turning my head back towards the window. The light that I saw a moment ago was gone, without so much as a trace of what it could have been.

I sighed. It was probably just something that got struck with lightning, is what I thought at the time. I shrugged off my suspicions as I got up to join my son on his bed.

* * *

I had always use to despise the weather patterns of Earth. One moment I was peacefully training out in the grasslands, the next it's pouring rain, effectively ruining my supplies. I took advantage of the delay and made my way back to Capsule Corp for some supplies more fit for the conditions.

With my speed I effortlessly reduced the numerous miles between my location and my destination in a matter minutes.

As the lights of the city came into my view, I caught sight of a flash in my peripheral vision about a mile or so to the left, just outside the city limits. I stopped in mid-air, silently contemplating whether or not it was truly worth me wasting my precious time with.

I decided that it wasn't, but curiosity got the better of me.

As I neared the flashing light it began to quickly dim, and it was gone by the time I reached it. I had found myself standing in a field of turbines, this being one of many owned by the woman's family, looking around for the source of the light. I didn't find single trace of light nor could I sense a single soul within two hundred feet of my surroundings.

I flew nearly thirty feet upwards, truthfully on my way towards leaving, when I something odd about the line of turbines. Amongst the rows, one was obviously missing. My eyes examined the spot from my distance in the air and I saw a short, black stump where an enormous fan should have been.

"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself as I flew downwards towards it. I stared in confusion upon realization that it was in fact the remnants of a turbine. I reached forward and placed my bare hand to it and quickly retracted due to the surprising amount of heat radiating off of it. Just when I was preparing to overanalyze this oddity, a loud crash of lightning lit up the sky helping me to draw my false conclusion and leaving it at that.

I flew away, completely oblivious to the large patch of fresh dirt not twenty feet behind me.

* * *

The very first thing I could remember about waking up on Earth was being in utter pain. My landing had been harsh, having not anticipated the entrance into the atmosphere to be so rough. I emerged from my vessel by pulling myself forward and stepped out, only to have my left leg give out beneath my weight. I assumed that it was injured during the landing.

I slowly got to my feet and realized that I was standing in a decent sized crater. I carefully climb out and looked down at my ship, that was practically buried in the ground, barely visible in the darkness of night. I decided that I could not leave it exposed like that, so I pushed as much dirt on to it as possible, burying it almost entirely.

With that done, I turned and began making my way towards a row of trees, an obvious limp present in my steps. I stumbled my way through foliage and forest until I came across an enormous field of what appeared to be large fan-like structures, dozens of them, and the lights of civilization just beyond it. At seeing signs of life, I began making my way through the field, but, in my hast, lost my balance and my bare feet slipped on wet grass. Thankfully, I was able to catch myself on one of the structures. Unfortunately, however, that was the exact moment that lightning chose to strike my very position.

Already in pain, I screamed as thousands of volts of electricity surge through my every molecule. Unable to remove myself from the structure, under the shere pull of electric currents, I placed both hands firmly against it. From the point of where my hands were making contact, glowing blue veins spread all over the large object, and, in the next instant, it crumbled to the ground.

Now standing completely upright, I opened my eyes and turned to the lights of the city, a place, no doubt, booming with electricity. "It seems I need to be a bit more cautious if I'm going to be here." I looked down upon myself and sighed my current nakedness. "But first, I must find suitable attire before I can begin my search. No use introducing myself like this." I looked back over at the city. "That looks like an excellent place to start." My pace was slow as I made my way closer to the lights, with a crackle of electricity left behind in every footprint.

* * *

Thirty minutes after putting my son down for the night, I was now in the process of getting ready for bed myself. I didn't usually turn in so early(it was only 8:01), but, since I didn't have to stay up all night reading contracts and looking over blueprints, I just took the extra hours of sleep whenever I could get them. Which wasn't very often.

Having already changed into a pair of red and black, plaid pajama bottoms and my old gray t-shirt that had "West City Zoo" written in big, bold white letters on the back(the shirt was a souvenir from Trunks' first trip to the zoo), I went downstairs to get on my laptop. I was getting something to drink when an e-mail alert came from it. I was sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen, responding to the message, when the stupid thing gave a low battery warning. I reached over to where the charger was plugged into the wall and connected it to my device.

I continued to type away until I had said all I needed to say. But before I could press send, you guessed it, the lights go off. Well, wasn't that just... convenient. I got up from the stool and went to try flipping the light switch, but nothing happened. The power had just gone out. I carefully walked into the dark hallway, opened a closet and grabbed a flashlight. Just as I was about to turn it on, Mother Nature decided that was the perfect opportunity to scare the hell out of me and unleashed a mighty roar of thunder that lit up the inside of the house.

All could think about was I hope that didn't wake Trunks up.

Seconds later, the power came back on. Well, that was a relief. I put the unused flashlight on a table and walked back into the kitchen. I wanted to break something when I my laptop. The dark screen told me that the reply wouldn't be sent as soon as I would have liked. Great. I told myself that it could wait until morning. I made sure that the device was charging before I turned around, shut off the main lights and headed upstairs, blissfully unaware of the real storm brewing within Mother Nature's scorn.

 **Okay, so that first prologue wasn't really the best; way too vague. This is why I'm rewriting it; to try new things out. I liked the original first chapter the way it was, so I kept it mostly the same way and just added a scene. Review this with your thoughts so I'll know if you like it or not.**


	3. Out of the Woods

**" _Some moments are nice, some are nicer and some are even worth writing about._ " - Charles Bukowski**

5:30 a.m., sharp, my touch-screen clock began blaring the alarm, signifying that the time for slumbering had passed and, within the next hour and a half, I needed to be dressed and ready to be the boss of the 452 employees that worked in the West City branch of the company.

I always use to give myself ample time to start the day.

Sometimes I miss those days when I was needed most.

Without even having to open my eyes, I reached over and tapped a finger on the screen, dismissing the alarm for today.

"It's about time you shut that thing off,"

I sort of yelped in surprise, only just then realizing that there was someone on the bed with me. It took me a second to gather myself before frustration set in at being caught off guard. "When did you get here?" I asked, not having to look at the person to know who it was.

"Good morning to you, too," Vegeta responded in his usual deadpan tone.

I turned my head to look at him. With dawn still about an hour away, the room's only source of light came from the fleeting night sky shining through the balcony doors to the far left of the bed, on his side. "Good morning Vegeta," I said, mockingly. "So how long have you been back?" It had been three days since that rainstorm swept through the city, and about three days since I had last saw him.

He was on his side with his back to me. "Last night." he said, simply, his voice raspy from sleep.

"That's very vague. You mind giving me a particular timeframe?" I lightly asked, knowing that he doesn't enjoy the questions, but knows that he will answer them regardless.

"7:28 p.m.," he had a tendency to be very specific about certain things when he wanted me to stop pestering him.

"That was one hour and seven minutes before I went to bed." I could be just as specific, but that was on account of my photographic memory, not because I'm an annoyingly boastful alien. "So, if you were here, why didn't you come down for dinner?"

"I ate before I came back,"

"That's never stopped you from going for seconds,"

He rolled over to his back in order to face me. "Did something happen in the city while I was away?" he asked, suddenly.

I got to a sitting position, stretched my arms above my head and stared down at him. "No, not really. We just got some heavy rain and a little lightning the other day, but that's it. Why?"

"I came back here that night to get a few things. I didn't see anyone downstairs, so I came straight up here. Before I got here, I guess around the same time you may have been putting the boy to bed, I saw something flashing in a field a few miles away..."

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. "Vegeta, it was a lightning storm. What did you expect?" I said, going into the en suite bathroom, turned on the shower, stopped in front of the large, dark wood framed, single-mirrored double vanity and began brushing my teeth.

He continued with his explanation. "That's what I thought at first, but when I saw that it wasn't coming from the sky I stopped to check it out."

I stopped brushing to spit in the sink before coming to stand in the doorway with the toothbrush still in my hand. "I saw that, too. When I was in Trunks' room, I saw that same light. At least I think it was the same light."

He sat up and leaned his back onto the headboard. "What do you suppose it was?"

I pursed my lips and shrugged. "I have no idea. But I can only assume that it was just something that got struck in the storm."

He sighed. "Now that I'm thinking about it, that might be a logical explanation, because the source of the light did come from that field of turbines near the countryside and one was reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble. You think the storm did that?"

"Well, I'm sure if something was wrong we would know about it by now, right? You would be able to sense it if there were trouble,"

"Of course I would," he said as if the claim itself were absolutely redundant.

"Precisely," I said, gesturing my hand at him, and going back into the bathroom to rinse my mouth out. I then stripped down before hopping in the steaming shower. The stall is made entirely of glass, not including the wall where the knobs that controlled the rainforest shower head is attached to. "If it happened to one of the turbines in that field, then that must have been what caused the power to surge that night," I wondered aloud as I lathered myself with soap.

"The power went out?" I heard him ask.

"Only for about two minutes. I thought that maybe the generators kicked in, but the power came back all by itself."

"It was probably nothing, then," he said, dismissing his own suspicions.

Once out of the shower, I went over the vanity to scrub my face clean. I splashed cold water on my face and grabbed a towel off the rack to my left. Slowly dragging the soft cloth down my face, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

The look on my face was one of uncertainty, but, at the time, I wasn't really sure why. We were living in a time of peace, with no sign of a threat to be heard of, where I was finally able to do what everyone else was doing with their lives; I was living my life the way I wanted, mostly. I was not preparing to leave the planet anytime soon, nor was I building armor for an upcoming battle. I was simply doing what I wanted. But if my time with my friends...and Vegeta had taught my anything, it had showed me how quickly it could all be taken away. How easily some random person could come along and burst my bubble of normalcy.

That was a fear of mine that I was sure I would always live with, but that didn't mean I had to sit back and wait for the worst to come.

I grabbed a large towel to wrap around my body and used a blow-dryer to dry my hair. I walked out into my bedroom and went straight to the walk-in closet. I picked out a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, a cream-colored, button-up blouse and a navy blue blazer, all matched up with a pair of classic, lace up, white and brown Oxford shoes. I quickly dressed before stepping out of the closet. I went back into the bathroom to apply light make-up around my eyes and cheekbones and rouge lipstick on my lips.

I walked back into the bedroom and over to the bed as I rolled up the sleeves of my blazer and blouse and saw that the clock now read 6:02. "I'm gonna send someone over to the turbine field later on today,"

He was still sitting up. "It might not be worth it,"

I yawned, still feeling the affects of sleep. "Still. I just want to be sure that it didn't cause any problems for anyone other than us,"

He slid back down to lie on his back. "It was three days ago. Don't you think if someone was having electrical trouble, you'd have gotten a call by now?" he pointed out.

"Yes. But that doesn't mean I have to ignore it,"

He snorted at my defense. "You probably have some previous engagement that you're using this to get out of," he accused.

I was a little taken aback by his accusation. "Oh, shut up." My voice remained calm. "That is not even remotely true. I'm just getting this out of the way so I won't be thinking about it all day. That's all."

"I still don't believe you, Onna," he stated, though it's obvious that he wasn't entirely serious. "And its unnecessary, if you ask me."

"Whatever, okay? It's just a precaution for something that could be necessary, 'Geta," I vindicated, almost smirking as I crawled onto the bed, leaned down over him and playfully whispered. "And no one asked you." I hated it when someone tried to dissuade me from doing what I wanted, and he was no exception to that side of me.

He just stared up, unflinching, as I hovered above him. "Fine. It's your time, waste it as you will," he said, an obvious annoyance in his tone.

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean like all the time I spend with you?" I bit back.

He scoffed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

I held my smirk as I inched further down and captured his lips in a soft kiss, which he decided to deepen by placing a hand to the back of my head. This is what we did. Though the bulk of our relationship was physical, another big component was comprised of mature conversations that almost always led to immature disagreements, which were usually settled by the passionate flames that burned between the two us, basically back to the physical aspect, and it had been that way since day one.

We could always turn anything into a battle of wits, of who could outsmart the other, but that was what we both enjoyed the most about each other, though neither of us ever admitted it back then. No one could challenge us on the level that we were use to, and not everyone was worthy of arguing with over the petty things we did, nor could someone win if they ever tried.

Though that conversation wasn't all that intellectually stimulating, I still managed to shut him up.

I placed a hand to his bare chest, pushing myself upward, signaling the end of our lip-lock. "That's enough of that," I teasingly told him.

He released my head and watched as I got up and straightened myself out.

I fixed my hair and walked over to my jewelry armoire. The tall wooden piece was black with a over a dozen drawers and compartments that held my collection of accessories. I still have it to this day. I pulled open the fourth drawer from the top that specifically held all of my wrist watches, neatly sorted by brand and style. I selected a simple rose-gold Cartier and pushed the drawer closed.

I turned to him as I slid the watch onto my left wrist and secured it in place. "Get up and put some clothes on,"

"Why?"

"Because I have an hour to spare before I have to go and I want some company while I wait," I told him, going over to the dresser near the entrance of my closet.

He rolled over so that his back was to me. "Just go wake the boy," he groaned.

I opened the drawer and gathered what I was looking for in my arms before turning back to him. "I'm not waking up our three-year-old at 6 o'clock in the morning."

"But you have no problem making me get up,"

There was an obvious humor in my tone as I spoke. "I sure as hell don't. Besides, I thought you liked beating the sunrise. Are you getting soft on me?" I purposely provoked.

"If I were getting soft you would kn-" he said as he turned back over to face me, but was cutoff when he was hit in the face with clothes. He yanked the clothing off of his head to glare at me. "Really?"

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my mouth at his expression. "Looks like your reflexes could use a bit of tuning up if you ask me."

"I'll show you reflexes," in an instant, he yanked the covers away from his body and launches himself right at me. I laughed as he gently and carefully tackled me to the ground before picking me up and tossing me on the bed.

That was one way I could think to waste a little time. Thank God for soundproof walls.

* * *

It had been a few hours since breakfast and Bulma departed Capsule Corp. in order to attend a meeting of some sort, so I was busying myself with watching my offspring run around his grandmother's greenhouse. The greenhouse was more of an indoor, grandiose garden, so massive it had its own wing of the compound. There was actual grass, that had been cut to perfection, on every inch of the ground. There were plots of various flowers and fresh produce and shrubbery that aligned to make a half-circle around the edges of the room with a few trees here and there, leaving an open space in the middle for entertainment. The Greenhouse was the place that the woman chose to hold her ostentatious events for the pseudo-intellectuals she easily convinced to show interest in the company's products. It was one of the few aspects of her life I wanted no part of.

I will never be able to understand how she put up with those sort of people, even if it was for the sake of business.

I sat on the grass, watching as the boy gleefully chased around some of the strange and exotic -some were even endangered- pets that belonged to his grandparents. The boy was demonstrating a level of running and jumping far beyond the physical capabilities of his age, for a human not a Saiyan, of course. Why the woman still chose to coddle him with things such as sippy cups and booster seats, at the time I did not understand, but I allowed the motherly precautions just the same. A mother has the right to do what they believe is best when it comes to their children.

I watched the boy chase after some kind of feline known as an Ocelot. It had been the boy's favorite to play with since the first time he saw it. The creature was obviously not serious about getting away from him, barely running and playfully dodging whenever he attempted to grab it. The boy was now close to catching it, but the quadruped made a hard left, causing the boy to lose his footing when he tried to do the same. The small child went tumbling across the grass.

I couldn't hold in the sigh of frustration as I shook my head at the lack of tactics on display.

"Oh Trunks, are you okay?" his grandmother asked from where she was standing behind a Blue Bell shrub that she was trimming and picking flowers from. She was wearing a pair of gloves, holding gardening snips in one hand with a basket on the crook of her elbow on the other. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"He's perfectly fine. Right, Trunks?" I said, watching as the boy picked himself up and gave an enthusiastic nod before going after the feline once more. "See?"

"I just wish he wouldn't play so rough. He fell pretty hard,"

"It was his own fault for letting an animal outsmart him with such a simple maneuver," I grumbled as I saw the boy try again to capture his opponent, only to yet again fail.

"I think they're just playing tag," she pointed out.

I shot her a look. "Obviously. But still, he should know better than that," I said more calmly, before going back to watching the boy be tackled to the ground by the animal. I had to resist the urge to groan.

"He's three. He'll get there, eventually," she said as she continued to cut and pick.

"You and that daughter of yours have the same excuses for everything, don't you?" I lightly mocked.

"That's why she's my daughter," she said with humor in her tone as she looked up to see her grandchild at play.

I shook my head once more and murmured. "A house full of crazy people," I often found myself having little conversations like this with the older woman. It began around three years prior to that point, and it usually only happened when it was just the two of us. I wasn't entirely sure when I just started going with it, but I never found a reason to question it. The woman was oddly tolerable to speak with at times, even with her annoyingly high voice.

"So, Bulma tells me that you plan on training with Trunks next year," she finished trimming the shrub before moving on to another.

"Yes, I am," I said simply.

"Why so soon?"

"We Saiyans develop at a faster pace than you humans. It's only natural to begin physical conditioning at an early age," I explained.

"He's still so young, though,"

I crossed my legs and folded my arms across chest. "By the time we start, he will be at least three years older than the average age a Saiyan begins to do these sort of things,"

"I couldn't imagine an infant going through such a thing," her voice was now taking on a melancholic tone. "It just doesn't seem fair,"

I scoffed, bitterly, remembering the days I had spent in rigorous training, until the day came that I would have to take my first life came. I was only four. "It is best to prepare him for whatever comes his way in the future, near and far."

"Bulma feels the same way about teaching him discipline while he's still young,"

"I guess she isn't all that crazy. Maybe you aren't related, after all." I jokingly suggested.

"Oh hush, you," she said, lightly, as she finished her task and came over to stand near me to my right. "You know, with you and Bulma both being such disciplinarians, I like to see him having fun. Not that you two don't let him have fun. But, most of the time, he's always so...obedient when it comes to you two,"

I looked up at her. "That's the whole point,"

She raised an eyebrow, sheepishly. "Touché,"

I stood up beside her. The woman stood a few inches shorter than myself and barely two inches shorter than her daughter, but still noticeably taller than her own husband.

I called the boy over, who was still in the middle of wrestling with his feline companion and winning, over to them. I had no doubts that the boy would tower over his grandparents as well.

The boy ran over. "Yes, Papa?"

"That's enough playing for right now. Go get cleaned up before we go," I instructed.

The boy gave a slight pout, but nodded anyway. He knew that certain things that worked on his mother had little to no affect on me. "Yes sir," he said before walking away towards the exit that led to the main area of the compound.

With the basket of flowers on her arm, the woman began walking in the same direction as the boy just went. I was going the same way, so I walked with her.

"So, where are you boys off to today?" she asked me. She removed her gloves and shoved them into her back pocket.

"His mother wants me to bring the boy to her downtown office for lunch. We meet in an hour," I told her, walking with my hands in my front pockets.

"Well, that sounds nice." We exited the room and stepped into the hall. "That reminds me. I need to call her," she pulled a cell phone out of her front pocket. "See you both later,"

I gave her a nod before we parted ways. I headed up toward the boy's bedroom, knowing that I will have to make sure the child didn't throw on one of the outlandish outfits he tended to put together in his early years.

* * *

"Alright, that's it for today," I announced from where I was sitting at the head of the long table in the middle of the conference room. "We will pick this back up when we meet again next week," I didn't wait for anyone to start leaving before I gathered my things and headed toward the double-doors. "Hopefully you all will have a lot of this finished by then. Meeting adjourned," I shot over my shoulder, casually, as I walked out.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I absolutely hated sitting through meetings, but understood that they were needed. Even though I didn't like it, I knew the importance of getting everyone in the same room to discuss what needed to be done at one time and have it out of the way. The beauty of being the head of an independent business was being the only boss and not having to worry about impressing investors. The downside was being in charge of everything and having to make and overlook every suggestion that one of the employees brought to your attention. Even with my older cousin being in charge of the East City and Orange Star City branches, it was still a lot to handle.

But I was never one to back down from a challenge. Probably why I held on to hope for our resident Saiyan for so long.

I walked down the corridor of cubicles, checking my watch along the way when my phone began to vibrate in the pocket of my blazer. I fished it out and inwardly groaned at the name on the screen. I very reluctantly slid my finger across the screen and answered the call. "Hello Mother," I was already exhausted before she even got a word out.

"Hi sweetie, how did the meeting go?" she asked me.

"It was fine. I told them that we're going to get started on our new line of appliances, starting tomorrow." I told her as I was approached by one of my employees with a detailed blueprint of an engine.

"How did they take the news about starting so early?"

"Not so good," it took me a few seconds to find the flaws, grab a pen from the man's shirt pocket, mark the places that needed improvement and write down how to do it before handing it back to him and continuing on my way. "I had to explain to their department that this means they will have more time to work on this if they start now, instead of later on in the year like usual,"

"Like all things that are good for you, they'll just have to learn to appreciate it." She agreed with me. The distant sound of rustling objects and running water could be heard in the background.

I found the noise odd. "Hey, Mom, what're you doing? I hear something on your end,"

The sound of a glass object very lightly hitting a surface comes next. "Oh, I just picked some flowers and now I'm putting them in a vase for the table," she explained. "Vegeta tells me that you're all having lunch together today,"

"Yeah, I wanted to spend some time with Trunks before my schedule gets in the way. Vegeta is just tagging along, reluctantly as always," I said, almost rolling my eyes just thinking about how adamant the Saiyan was about not wanting to spend time together. Outside of the compound.

"Well, it's still a nice gesture,"

I sighed. "I know, Mom," as the doors to my office came into view, I was politely interrupted by my secretary, who was sitting at her station about ten feet from my office. "What is it, Izumi?"

"Bulma, there's a call waiting on line one for you," she informed me. Izumi was an older woman, nearly forty six, with chestnut hair and soft brown eyes and a fair complexion. She was older than many of the others, due to her being one of the few employees that kept their position after my father retired. She was only twenty-two when she began working for the company, so she had known my family well enough to be on a first name basis with the boss, and was the head of my secretarial staff.

I mouthed a thank you before walking past her and into the office. "Hey, Mom, I got a call. I'll see you later,"

"Before you go, don't forget that you have to bring Gohan over to the compound tomorrow,"

I almost laughed at that. Someone reminding me to not forget was always seen as a redundant waste of time. I humored her anyway, though. "I won't,"

"Alright, sweetie, see you later. Love you,"

"Love you, too. Bye," I hung up and sat down at the large desk that sat in front of the floor to ceiling windows that made up one wall that had a beautiful view of Central City.

I placed my briefcase and cell phone on the desk before picking up the office phone and pressing line one. "Hello,"

"Hello there," a throaty and husky female voice said on the other end. "Am I speaking with Bulma Briefs?"

"Yes, this is she. May ask who this is," I said back, idly moving things around on my desk and before opening my laptop.

"Certainly, Miss Briefs, where are my manners. My name is Shion Adair,"

'Odd little name she has' was the first thing I thought about her as I typed in my password and switched the phone to speaker. "Okay, Miss Adair, what can I do for you this afternoon?"

"I wanted to talk to you, personally, about the opening you have for an event planner. I want to apply for the position," she boldly told me.

I typed away on the device, opening some files. "Miss Adair, are you aware that the deadline for the application submissions ended two weeks ago?" I asked, trying not make the woman feel embarrassed, or anything.

"Yes, I am. I found out about the position only a few days ago, but I figured if the deadline ended so recently that maybe you still haven't found anyone. Yet," she explained to me.

"You would be correct about that, Miss Adair. I am currently still in the process of selecting someone," I easily admitted. "Are you new to the city?"

"Yes, I recently made a rather long...journey to get to your hometown, if I could say."

I raised an eyebrow at this. "You're living in West City?"

"Yes, I just moved into the Park Street apartments," she specified.

I smiled a little at hearing this bit of information. "Well then, as a native, allow me to welcome you to West City," I genuinely told her. I have always had pride in my city, and it was a beautiful thing to see more creative individuals popping up.

"Thank you, Miss Briefs,"

"It's always nice to see new people finding a home in the city. And I'm sure the process wasn't all that easy," I said, remembering my short stays in various places during my travels back in the day.

"It's an adjustment, to say the least,"

"Why West City, anyway?"

"I hear it's the capital of creativity, also, I am looking to for something that is supposedly in this city,"

"Well, I can't argue with that title. I hope your journey there went smoothly,"

For some reason she giggled at my words before she answered. "The landing was pretty rough. I got a few bumps and bruises, but it was manageable enough," she was obviously trying not to laugh. Some kind of inside joke, or something I assumed at the time.

"Well, that's good, I suppose." My eyes were scanning over the screen as I spoke. I really wanted to check my mail before I left.

"Wait. You just said _there_. Are you not in the city?"

"No, I'm actually in Central City on business right now,"

"Oh, well, that's too bad. I have really been looking forward to meeting you for quite a while now. I was hoping that I could get the chance to speak with you in person,"

"I would like to meet you as well. You have certainly interested me enough to have gotten my attention." I finished looking through the file and opened my e-mail.

"That's good to know," she said with an unwavering confidence. "I would like to meet with you as soon as possible, if it isn't a problem,"

"No problem at all." I looked at the watch on my wrist. "But it can't be today. I don't have the time. It's a previous engagement I can't get out of. But, if you really want to see me, you just need to make an appointment with my secretary, Izumi, and we'll go from there. How does that sound?"

"Doable. I'm glad I got the chance to speak with you, Miss Briefs, I look forward to our meeting,"

"As do I, Miss Adair," I sincerely said as I checked my watch again. "Now, if there is nothing more, I really have to go."

"That's more than okay. Thank you for your time,"

"Oh! And I hope you find what you're looking for,"

She giggled again. "I am entirely certain that I will...very soon,"

We exchanged goodbyes before I hung up. I began sorting my things and placing them inside my leather briefcase.

I sighed when a thought occurred. I should probably let Mom know about this new one. I pondered that idea for all of five seconds. No, she might scare her away. I'll handle this one on my own.

I opened my schedule on my laptop and opened some space in the afternoon. I reached over to press a button on the intercom my desk. "Hey, Izumi,"

"Yes, Bulma, what is it?" she responded, almost immediately.

"You're gonna get a call from a woman named Shion Adair. I want you to tell her to come in tomorrow at 1 o'clock, okay?" I instructed.

"If I'm not mistaken, you have a meeting that shouldn't be letting out until around 2 o'clock, right?"

"I know that, and that's why I'm planning on pushing it up so that we can wrap up in time for me to meet this woman," I explained.

"Whatever you say. You are the boss," she complied. "I'll set it up right away," the sound of typing could be heard on the other end. "This isn't about you trying to meet with this woman so soon because you don't want your mother to meet her, is it?"

I winced at the perceptive woman's guess. "Not at all," I lied, very unconvincingly.

"Whatever you say," Izumi said, obviously seeing through my lie. A few more taps of keys was heard before she spoke again. "It's done,"

"Thank you, Izumi," I said in a playfully immature tone.

"You're welcome. And just know that if your mother asks, I might have to tell her," she warned me.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." I wanted to dismiss the topic. My mother was a sweet woman, but she had a way of instilling absolute terror when she wanted to. Even Vegeta had found himself caught off guard by how much she was able to frighten him without making a single threat.

"Oh, Bulma, I just got the report back from the workers you sent to see about that turbine field today,"

"That's good. I was hoping to hear back from them before I headed out,"

"I already sent you the e-mail,"

"Thanks," I released the button and turned back to my laptop. I quickly got to my inbox and opened the new message. I saw that there was an attachment and clicked it. It was a two page report along with a few photographs. I quickly read the first page of the report.

 _Ms. Briefs, my name is Kent Honjo, I am the lead contractor working on the task of checking your turbine field. I feel the need to inform you that my team and I have finished our inspection of the destroyed wind turbine and the surrounding turbines and we only found minimal damage; easily repairable. But I regret to inform you that the cause of this damage doesn't appear to simply be from the storm, as you initially thought. During our test, one of my men received a mild shock after stepping on a small piece of debris, so we decided to run a test on the area for safety reasons. Using a volt meter, the test found that the area around the destroyed turbine contained extremely high voltages of electricity flowing through it. Destructively high. If the storm had anything to do with this, then something had to be used to conduct and concentrate enough power to reduce a 30 foot tall turbine into a pile of rubble. If it wasn't the storm, at all, then it's completely inexplicable to me._

My interest was peaked but I paused before starting the second page, no doubt just a detailed assessment of the damage, and went to take a look at the photographs of the scene. The digital images were of the inspected area and showed the pile of rubble that the man was referring to. He left out the fact that the grass looked to have been burned away and the pile of rubble was more like a pile of used charcoal. Just as Vegeta had told me.

It looked like it blew up. I carefully scanned the image, looking for something that my eyes could catch where most others would miss. And I did.

"What the hell?" I narrowed my eyes and enhanced the image and leaned in to make sure that I was seeing this correctly. There, on the ground beside the mess, were scorched spots. "Are those footprints?" I thought aloud. This gave me pause about what I believed I was staring at.

Before I had the chance to examine it more closely, the doors to my office flew open.

My head shot up from the screen to see the source of the disruption, only to find Vegeta standing in the doorway with our son tucked beneath his arm. He set him down on the floor and Trunks immediately ran over to me. As he always did.

I quickly stood up and scooped my bundle of joy up in my arms. "Hi baby,"

"Hi Momma!" he said, enthusiastically, wrapping his short arms around my neck.

"How has my little man been today? Did you miss me?" I cooed as I kissed his cheek.

"Yes, I missed you!" he giggled. He pulled away to look at me. "I played with Bamboo today!"

My eyes widened with false excitement. "You played with Bamboo today? Wow!" I looked over at the man still standing near the door. "I thought you weren't supposed to play with Bamboo for a while after what happened the last time?" I said, directing my words at the Saiyan.

Vegeta simply crossed his arms across his chest. "I was watching him the entire time," he said, idly glaring around my office.

"Of course you were," I groaned. I looked back to my child. "Your daddy doesn't seem to understand the things that I tell him to do. I wonder if he can understand the words _ou se yon estipid_ ,"

He growled at that, truly despising when I spoke in other languages, knowing that I usually did it to insult him. "Can we just get this little outing over with already?" he saif, very impatiently.

I rolled my eyes before smiling at my son, repostioning him on my hip, and reached over to my laptop. I stared at the photograph for a moment, deciding that it could wait until later and shut it, slid it into my briefcase and grabbed it with my free hand. I smiled at my son again. "I hope you at least worked up an appetite while you were playing with Bamboo, because you're having lunch with Momma today," Trunks excitedly nodded his head. "Alright then," I walked past my agitated lover. "Let's go, _Estipid_ ,"

 **A/N: all chapters will be titled after song that go with the subject of that particular chapter. Just in case you thought the titles would sound weird. See you all next week, my friends.**


	4. Nobody Ever Let's Me In

**" _And our few good times will be rare because we have the critical sense and are not easy to fool with laughter._ " - Charles Bukowski **

As we took our seats at the table in the outside dining area of the restaurant, I instructed one of the waiters to bring a booster seat for Trunks, along with the massive order of food that was only considered a small lunch for the two Saiyan men. I had my son seated on my lap as we waited , and noticed the way Vegeta was shaking his head.

"What is it now?" I asked, not really caring for the answer.

"I still don't understand why you insist on having him sit in one of those things," he said, genuinely confused.

I sighed . "We've been over this already. He's just a child, Vegeta, and children need things like that to help them," I explained, trying not to get too frustrated in front of said child.

Vegeta gave an unconvinced face. "Help him how?"

I shot him an annoyed face right back. "Seriously?" I deadpanned. I lifted Trunks off of my lap and placed him in the seat between the two of us, and the only part of him that could still be seen was the top of his head.

"He can stand up to eat," he suggested.

"That's definitely not happening," I shot down, immediately, before picking my son back up and seating him back on my lap.

"Even still, his motor skills are up to that of someone three times his age,"

"And I don't doubt that,"

"So why the need for that ridiculous cup?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "His motor skills have nothing to do with the fact that he is prone to spilling things,"

"He wouldn't be spilling things if he had more practice drinking from a real cup,"

He had a point, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "Okay, now you're just grasping at straws," I brushed off, picking the boy back up when the waiter came to put the booster seat in place. I thanked the man as he said that our food will be out shortly and left. "I know that you believe him to be above all of this because of your half of his DNA, and in some ways he is, but he is still just a child. I don't want him to feel like he has to grow up so fast, because we both know what it's like to have pressure placed on us at a young age," I lamented as I strapped him to the seat. I finished and settled in my seat before turning to look at him. "Can you honestly say that you want him to grow up the same way you did?"

Vegeta visibly softens, well as much as a person with an infinite scowl could, but didn't get the chance to respond to my question when multiple waiters and waitresses approach the table with our meal.

With our food laid out before us, the unorthodox brood that was us began to eat in plain to see, tension-filled silence.

Halfway through lunch, Vegeta surprised me by being the first to start a conversation. Probably surprised himself, too.

With his eyes still firmly on his plate, he asked me a question. "What did you find out about the damage to the field?" He continued to slowly eat at his food, obviously waiting for an answer.

I looked up and placed my utensils on the edge of the plate before wiping my mouth with a napkin. "I had just gotten the report a couple of minutes before you walked in, so I haven't had the chance to properly look at it," I reached over and grabbed my glass of water, took a sip, and placed it back down. "The team that I sent out took some photos of the scene that looked odd to me,"

"What do mean? Odd how?" he asked , still looking down.

"There were some things that I saw in one of the photos that just didn't look right to me." As I relayed this information, there was a sudden feeling that crept up my spine, like winter itself was dragging its fingertips along my back. I calmly peered around us.

He finally looked up at me. "What is it?"

I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so I turned back to him. "Nothing," I convinced myself of this.

Vegeta gave me a look before shaking his head. "The scene was a complete mess when I saw it. The ground around it was burnt and that turbine was reduced to nothing but a pile of smoldering ash, so I checked to see if I could sense something off about it, and I didn't find anything,"

That fully grabbed my attention. "You didn't sense anything wrong about the field?"

"No, I didn't,"

"But..." I trailed off. That report mentioned that the field had dangerously high levels of electricity flowing through it. Surely Vegeta would have picked up on that, right? I chose not to share this with him, deeming it unimportant. I just stared thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. "So do you have any theories on this?"

"Not really, but you know that it's not impossible that it could have been caused naturally,"

"I know that it's possible to place blame it on that storm, but...I just can't seem to do that right now,"

He sighed. "Okay, based on what you've read and seen so far, what do you believe happened that night?"

I sighed , thoughtfully. "I don't know, but I intend to take a better look at those photos." Something about not knowing much about that situation was making me increasingly uneasy. I was a woman who needed to be in control and aware of her surroundings at all times, but, with me not even being in control of my own love life, by that point that need had only gotten greater. Although I was content on being content with my personal life, I was still a perfectionist businesswoman who only enjoyed her mysteries in movies and books.

Vegeta was about to say more when he was interrupted by the sound of my ringtone.

I quickly fished the phone out of my bag. "Sorry. I forgot to put it on vibrate," I apologized, looking at the small screen. I sighed upon seeing the name. "Excuse me, I have to take this one." I got up from the table and walked a fair distance away before answering the call. "Hello,"

"Hi, B," non other than the voice of my ex-boyfriend came through the speaker in his usual friendly tone.

"Hey, stranger, long-time no see," I said with a small smile. "Well, technically, I still haven't seen you but... you get where I was going with that,"

"Yeah, I know its been a while. I've been pretty busy since the season started," he told me.

I placed a hand on my hip. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Uhh," he dragged out. I could practically see the way he was no doubt rubbing at the scruff of hair on his jaw. "Well, I'll be in town over the weekend and I wanted to know if you were free to meet up...for lunch,"

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay," I said, skeptically. It wasn't that he was asking to have lunch together, we had done so a few times over the last couple of years, it was how unsure he sounded when he asked. "I'm sure I could make some time...but is there any particular reason for this visit? Not that you need one,"

"I kinda need to do something that requires me to be in West City, and it sort of involves needing to see you beforehand,"

I leaned against the side of the building. "What exactly is this something?"

"Something important that I've been putting off for too long," he alluded.

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you when we meet up,"

"Why can't you just say what it is now?" I pressed. I did not enjoy not knowing something.

"Because I don't want to talk about it over the phone. And plus, its a good excuse for us to see each other. I have missed you, you know," he said, an obvious smile in his voice.

I could not stop the sincere but mournful smile that appeared on my lips from his words. Yamcha always had a way about himself, a simplistic charm, that could make a city gal like myself swoon. But, even after knowing him for close to twenty years and having dated him for more than half of those years at that point, I still refused to tell him that. Lord knows he had enough women stroking his ego back in those days.

I continued to smile as I shook my head. "I'll see what I can do for Saturday or Sunday, okay?" I told him.

"That's good enough for me," he agreed. "So, how's the kid doing? He anything like his father yet?" he lightly joked, but I knew that there was no malice behind it. Trunks was still a sore subject for him, having been conceived less than year after we had split up for the hundredth time, but he had shown signs of warming up to him and accepting the way things had turned out.

I looked back over my shoulder at the two people still occupying my table. Vegeta was currently handing our child a napkin, gesturing for him wipe his mouth. Trunks had food all over his face, and Vegeta was cringing at the mess. I smirked at the sight. "Not yet," I playfully said. "Hey, Yamcha, I gotta go," I turned back forward, missing the way Vegeta's eyes darted in my direction.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's just something that I want to get back to. I'll get back to you about this weekend,"

"Alright. Later, B,"

"See you later, Bandit," I said goodbye to my old lover before hanging up the phone and walking back to the table and reclaiming my seat. "Sorry about that. Now, what were you saying?"

We resumed the conversation from before, but I could clearly see that his mood had been greatly soured since I came back to the table, and I wasn't entirely certain as to why that was. Even though he was attempting to be civil by holding a conversation with me, he was behaving far too standoffish for me to not say something about it.

I took a sip of water and placed it back down. "Is there something wrong?" I asked.

Vegeta hadn't made eye contact with me since I sat back down, and he still didn't when he replied. "Why do you ask?" he just continued to eat.

"Is this about me cutting you off to answer the phone? Because if it is, I am sorry about that," I tried to offer.

"There is no need for an apology. You've done nothing wrong, right?" he said, way too pointedly for my taste.

I was slightly taken aback by his tone. "Is there something you wanna tell me? Or are you just gonna sit there and pout about it until I inevitability find out for myself?" I asked this in attempt to get under his skin, wanting him to tell me what it was. I refused to believe that he would actually be upset over me putting him on hold. It truly did happen so much that he seemed to not be bothered by it anymore. So why the attitude towards that particular incident? I didn't know the answer at the time.

Vegeta was visibly frustrated, as evident when his darkening onyx eyes met my annoyed blue ones. His glare was challenging, but I didn't falter, and simply returned the glare.

During our time together, even back in those days, I felt as though I might have known him better than most, that I could read him like a graphic novel. But that was only possible when he wasn't so guarded. And at that moment, he might as well have had a force field up. Something was clearly bothering him, and I just wanted to know what it was. Even though the answer was right in front of me.

I glanced over at the small child seated between us. My eyes softened as I watched him sloppily eat his sundae. I turned my gaze back to the man across from me. "We'll talk about this later. I don't want to do this in front of him," I softly whispered.

Vegeta scoffed , an extreme show of pettiness on his part. "Whatever," and he just went back to eating.

I picked up a napkin and wiped the ice cream from Trunks' cheeks. After I was done, I leaned back in my seat.

Feeling the air around us becoming more and more dour, I relented from saying more. Nothing good had ever come of us bickering in public places anyway; Vegeta would either blow something up or fly through something if he got too upset during one of our heated arguments. Either way, I would always be left to deal with the repercussions. Oddly enough, those incidents had yet deter me from keeping up my part in our tumultuous union.

I inwardly groaned. I had become the woman I thought was long dead and buried after having officially ending things with Yamcha. You would think as a woman with photographic memory, I could've remembered not to fall back into old habits. The only difference between back then and those years with Yamcha, though, was that I was fully aware of how caught up in the void of passion I was with the Saiyan and I had no plans of looking for a way out.

I was stuck... _again_.

Suddenly, another chill ran up my spine. I quickly whipped my head around to see if I could spot an unwanted observer.

I guess Vegeta decided to take notice of my movements. "What are you doing now, woman?" he reluctantly asked.

I continued to look around as I replied. "I have this weird feeling that we're being watched,"

"You're the face of a multi-billion dollar corporation, of course you feel that way," he dismissed my suspicions.

Sure enough, there were actually a lot of people who were staring or taking photos, amazed by the sheer presence of Bulma Briefs sitting amongst the commoners like _a normal person._ Just another day in the spotlight.

"But that's not what I'm talking about. It feels like someone is...I don't know, watching us. It's difficult to explain." Though I tried anyway. "It's just a very foreboding feeling, like the kind you get if you were in a horror movie situation and it feels like at any moment someone is about to jump out and grab you,"

Vegeta gave a mildly confused, sort of upset look. "That's oddly specific for just a feeling, don't you think?"

I shrugged as I tried to slyly glance at the people in the general area. "Don't judge me. It was the only example I could think of at the moment,"

He sighed, sounding particularly hesitant about what would come out of his mouth next. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't sense any threats in this area," he offered.

I could hear his anger faltering under his attempt to give me peace of mind. "It does," I sweetly accepted. "Thank you, 'Geta," he looked away, now focused on something really interesting to his left. I smirked at his bashful action.

Half an hour later, we finished lunch and was now preparing to leave. I paid the bill, of course, and as we were walking out and about to enter my jet, my phone rings yet again. I grabbed it out of my bag and groaned again at the name I saw.

Very reluctantly, I slid my finger across the screen and answered the call. I sighed before pressing the device to my ear. "Hi Van," I said with forced cheerfulness.

"Bulma," an annoyingly stern voice harshly greeted on the other end. It was my older cousin, on my mother's side, and the Vice President of the company, Vanessa, better known as Van, Stone.

"What can do for you today, Van?" I reluctantly asked as I strapped my son into his safety seat.

"I need to see the designs for the new jets to give to the workers here,"

I completed the task and prepared to get in the driver's seat. "Today?"

"Please tell me that you've finished those designs for the five new models," Van practically growled.

"I finished them all yesterday," I insisted.

"Okay, now I'm confused. So what's the issue?"

"There's no issue. The prints are in my office, and I'm not there right now," I explained, leaning against the outside of the vehicle.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in Central City with Trunks and his father,"

"I'm sorry, is he is there for a doctor's appointment?" Van asks, obviously not giving a damn.

"No,"

"Is he there for any mandatory reason at all?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose with a sigh, not wanting to answer the spiteful question. "No,"

"Well then, I suggest you get yourself to the office and bring me back those prints before the end of the day," having said that, Van hung up without so much as a warning.

I allowed the hand that was holding the phone to drop down to my side in defeated frustration. I looked inside the vehicle before climbing in. I looked over at the man sitting in the passenger seat. "I have to go back to my office. Something just came up, and now I have to meet Van over at the office in East City,"

Vegeta almost looked disappointed by this, but it was hard to tell with him sometimes. "Do you want me to take the boy with me?"

"Would you? Who knows how long this might take, and I don't want him waiting with me," I told him.

"Alright," he agreed.

I started up the jet. "I'll be passing near West City. You two can get out then, okay?" He shrugged one shoulder as he settled into the seat. I turned my attention forward before taking off.

Another relaxing evening cut short.

* * *

I Walked along the crowded sidewalk of the bustling city street, now observing my surroundings with an odd mixture of confusion and wonder dancing in my eyes.

Over the course of my first several days here, I had seen some of the strangest and most fascinating things on this planet. The ways in which the cities were separated without the need for boarders or walls was very perplexing, to the point where one had to wonder what system this planet used to keep the citizens of its many sections apart the way it had. And the oddest part, at least for me, was that they were all free to come and go as they pleased, which was how I made my way into the sector known as Central City with little to no effort, aside from walking around after leaving the means of public transportation known as a train.

On a literal quest in search of a very specific someone in this particular city, amongst a population of millions, I was now becoming frustrated by my own lack of information on where to go. I crossed the street.

This was truly preposterous. I began staring around for sign that I was going in the right direction. How could anyone be expected to get anywhere when everything looked so similar? I stopped to study a rather tall and large building with an enormous logo hung above the front entrance. I hadn't seen a structure similar to that one yet. I looked at the other surrounding buildings. All were nearly identical to each other. 'Maybe the native inhabitants found this easier to build or replicate. A very infantile way of thinking for a supposedly advanced planet' I thought at the time.

It seemed that the technology was up to par with previously held expectations, or, more specifically, all forms of technology that was branded with the letter c. The outer designs were simplistic enough, while the inner workings could almost be considered magnificent. 'The designer of such marvels was worthy of meeting with before departing the planet' I mused. Little did I know.

I crossed another street and turned a corner into a shopping district. There were groves of various shops, all aligned on that singular street. Walking farther down, I came across an eatery. By absolute chance, I stared out at the dining patrons sitting outside. One face in particular stood out above the rest.

There, seated between an adult male and female, was a small child with a face that caused flashes of memories to come crashing through my mind like thunder.

'That could not be possible!' I thought in a panic, trying to get a better look. He had the same face! But then I got a closer look at the boy's light and delicate features. His hair and eyes didn't match up.

It had to be a coincidence that he looked so similar, though, right? That animal is probably dead and gone by now' I attempted deduce, walking at an angle to see the adults beside the child. The female suddenly looked to the side, further obscuring her face. The two adults appeared to be engaged in conversation, although it was difficult to tell without seeing their faces. The female suddenly stood up and walked away from the table. Abandoning trying to see her, I turned to the male. Reversing the angle in which I was going, I could now finally see a full profile.

"It's King Vegeta!" My breathing becoming erratic as I stared into the face that had haunted my dreams for decades. But this should not be! He should be dead, along with the rest of that horrid race! As my mind raced to make sense of what I was seeing, a thought occurred. What if this was Vegeta II?

Now glaring, his profile became clearer. Even without the goatee, the man was still the spitting image of his father. Looking back to the child, I pieced the scene together. That must be his son and that female must be the boy's mother.

White hot fury flowed through my veins. He has a family! After the countless families that were destroyed at the hands of those beasts, he has the audacity to have one of his own?! What female in her right mind would allow something like this to happen?

As if on que, the female returned to the table. She began talking with the savage once again. An uncertain amount of time passed as I was now madly and obsessively glaring at the small family. The female suddenly leaned back in her seat. A few moments later and she was now frantically looking around. When she finally turned her head in my direction, her entire face could now be seen.

The glare I was holding had melted away, almost immediately. I was now gazing at a porcelain complexion accented perfectly by mesmerizing blue eyes and light hair.

I knew that she would not be able to spot me from where I stood across the street, so I just continued to study her features as if she were a well-preserved art piece. My focus was suddenly broken by someone bumping into my left side, causing the person to drop the items that they were carrying.

"I am so sorry!" the person, a young male, said as he hurriedly picked up his fallen items.

"No apologies necessary," I said as I crouched down to help the person. "Here, allow me to help,"

"No, you shouldn't have to do this because I wasn't paying attention," the male said.

"It is partially my fault as well. I was idly standing in the middle of the public walkways." I finished gathering the items off of the ground. I handed him the remainder of his things.

"Thanks," he said.

"You are welcome. Just try to pay more attention when out and about like this. You could get hurt,"

He nodded in understanding but then leaned forward a bit. "Hey, you know, you have some really amazing eyes,"

"I believe I did know that, but thank you for reminding me," it says, not sure why the male said it.

"They're really cool. Are they contacts?"

I was bewildered by the question. "Contacts?" I echoed. "What is that?"

"Uhh. Don't worry about it," he dismissed and turned in the direction of the eatery. "So, what were you staring at over there?"

I turned back to as well and pointed. "Who is that? The female sitting with the male and small child,"

"Oh, wow! You don't know who that is?" I shook my head. "That is the most famous woman on the planet! That's Bulma Briefs. She's a brilliant engineer and scientist and she's the new president of Capsule Corp," he said, dreamily.

"So that's Bulma Briefs," I said, thoughtfully. "What is this... _Capsule Corp_?"

"Everything with this..." he lifted his hand and the device on his wrist had the same branding on it as the building from earlier. "logo on it is made by Capsule Corp.," he patiently explained. He gestured his head back toward the couple. "And the scary looking dude sitting with her is...Virgil or something like that,"

"Vegeta," I practically snarled.

"Yeah, I think that's his name. He's the father of her little boy,"

I had already figured that much. I had to keep from regurgitating at the confirmation I did not want. I could feel my fingertips crackling with power. "Thank you for your time," I said as politely as I could with a quiet storm brewing on the inside.

"No problem," the male sheepishly nodded before continuing on his way.

I never took my eyes off of the brood at the eatery. "Bulma Briefs of Capsule Corp., huh? Well, this certainly changes things."

I watched as the small group left the eatery and piled into a flying craft. I calmly made my way in the same direction, accidentally bumping into a parked vehicle, causing the alarm of every other vehicle on the street to go off.

I paid the commotion no mind as I followed the flying craft.

* * *

Trying desperately not to drag my feet as I made my way into the elevator, I was now in possession of the prints my cousin requested and was on my way up to the top floor of the East City building with five tubes under my arm. I was watching the numbers rise on the small monitor, silently hoping that the ascension would slow down, not in too much of a rush to get out of the metal box.

Though it was disappointing to not be able to go home with my son, I understood that the workplace is not somewhere a child should be.

The last time I tried to have Trunks wait for me at the office, the boy disappeared, only to later be found inside of a Capsule House while it was in the process of being capsulized. It would have been a real scare for me had I not been aware of how the process worked. He wasn't harmed, but that was when I decided that maybe it was time to teach him to have some discipline in order to prevent future incidents. That was a year prior, and he had yet to be anywhere in any of my offices, at home or otherwise for more than a few minutes until he became a teenager. He may have alien DNA on account of his father, but that had never stopped me from worrying about him on all of the time.

On the thought of Trunks, I also made it my business to keep him as far away from the East City branch as I possibly could in particular. Along with not wanting him to have wait on me, and inevitability do something with such reckless abandon that I might have had a small panic attack, I just didn't enjoy bringing him around the bitter person who is in charge of managing the place.

I know that's sad, but that was just how I felt about her back then.

Anyway, as the elevator came to stop, I forced myself to straighten with a groan. The doors slid open, revealing a busy floor full of people moving all around. I navigated my way through the sea of paperwork and employees until I reached the door opposite to the elevator.

I walked straight inside and was greeted with the sight of a woman berating one of the employees. As per usual.

"You have got be joking!" she yelled, throwing some papers at the person's face. "A child could've come up with something better than this! Are you trying to ruin this company's reputation with your lack of creativity?"

The employee, recognized as one of the male architects, stammered. "N-no ma'am, of course not!"

"Then take this pathetic excuse for an infrastructure you've managed to pull out of your ass and make it so that we won't be made a mockery of when the building doesn't pass inspection on account of your laziness on the finishing day. Do you understand me?" she scolded, making a six foot one man appear five foot two.

"Yes ma'am,"

Poor guy. He should have known better than to pitch something with to that ball-buster. I inwardly shook my head. Even though I never really had a superior in my life, I knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of the woman's fury, and I wished it on no one.

"Then get the hell out of my office, and don't come back until you can prove to me that you're at least more creative than a three year old!"

The man gave an unenthusiastic nod before turning on his heels and walking towards the door.

I gave him a nod. "Hi Charles,"

He forced a smile and returned the nod. "Hello, Madam President," he said, slipping past me and shutting the door behind himself.

As expected, Van turned her glare on me. Her fiery blue eyes stood out against her tan skin. Her honey-brown locks were pulled back into a tight bun with not a hair out of place, giving herself an urbane business look that went perfectly with her gray suit and black, short sleeved blouse, with the matching gray jacket that was hung on the hook by the door. She had a slender build and was the exact same height as me, but you would think she was much taller by the way she talked down at everyone. "It's about time you got here," she spat, taking a seat behind her desk. "Well? Stop standing around and show me what you have,"

I sighed quietly through my nose. "Nice to see you, too, Van," I groaned as I walked up and placed the prints on the desk before rolling each of them out. "How was your day, Bulma? Oh, it was fine, up until an hour ago, thanks for asking though,"

"Save your cordial greetings for someone who wants them," she bit at my mockery. She stood back up and leaned over the desk to get a better look at the prints. "And we've been over how I feel about that sarcastic mouth of yours, so just leave it at home next time,"

"I'll try to keep that in mind," I murmured, waiting for her to finish looking over the designs.

Van looked up at me and then back down at the prints. "I'll send this down to Engineering. Hopefully they'll be able to get started on these without needing your help this time," she rolled the papers back up and headed toward the door.

"You know I don't mind helping them," I said, following her out in to the corridor.

Van began to walk forward. "You shouldn't have to help them. We all have had ample enough training in this field, some of us less than others," she said that last part pointedly, causing me to roll my eyes as I fell in step beside her. "They have no room for excuses, even if it is one of your...showy creations,"

"Well, you know how I tend to over-compensate when it comes to details. My fault," I said, somewhat sheepishly.

"They should know how to make even the most intricate of designs, no matter how complex. We do not cut corners for anyone,"

I tilted my head to the side in agreement. "I don't even know how to cut corners,"

"And the finished results show it. One of very few good qualities you got from this family,"

I laughed through my nose. This woman never really use to admit to liking anything I did, even though I never had doubts about my handiwork, so that was as good a confirmation as I would ever get from her, as underhanded as it may have been.

We had always had a bit of a volatile relationship as far as being family members, with Van usually playing the role of verbal bully since we were children. She had never really been too fond of me and that only became something akin to hatred after my father announced his retirement. Van had been expecting to take his place, seeing as she had already been acting as Vice President for a few years at that point, so imagine her disappointment when the position was handed over to me.

That was over a year prior to that day and Van still hadn't fully let it go.

"So," I sighed as we walked through the same sea of people, who had made an opening and parted like that of the Red Sea so that we, their bosses, could have passage. "How have things been going around here?"

"They've been going," she answered, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I'm asking because I haven't really been by here in a while,"

"Because I don't need you checking up on me. I am running this place just fine without requiring your presence,"

"I didn't say that you needed me here. I was referring to the fact that all of these employees seem kind of frantic," I explained, looking around at all of the people.

"This is what it looks like when you expect excellence..." she stopped and turned to face me. "...and when your branch does most of the paperwork for the company. But I suppose you know more than I do after being in charge for barely a year, as apposed to my five years as V.P. here, right?"

"Van, I didn't mean anything by it..."

"You never do," she interrupted . "Now, if you have no further business here, you may go," Van swiftly dismissed me and walked away, but not before muttering the title she knew I disliked the most. "Golden Child,"

I watched her gracefully storm off. I told myself to just let it go. The title had been the bane of my existence since I was actually a child, and Van never missed an opportunity to remind me of it.

I ran a hand over my hair and sighed through my nose before making a beeline for the elevator. Not much reason for me to stick around where I wasn't needed...or wanted.

An hour of flying later, I could now see the lights of downtown West City. I checked the digital clock on the dashboard. It was still early enough for me to get home in time to spend a little more time with Trunks before his bedtime.

As I steered my jet toward home, something caught my eye. It was a faint glow emitting in the distance in the direction in which I was heading. As I got nearer, the glow became brighter.

I veered to the side in order to look down at it through the window. But as I soared almost directly over it, the glow became blindingly bright. I shielded my eyes with my arm while the other remained steering. Suddenly, my jet shook as if it had been struck and a moment later the sound of the door being forced open caused me to try and open my eyes, but I was still very unable to see on account of the bright light now being inside of the jet with me.

"What is this?!" I yelled, both hands now off of the controls, looking at something that was slowly coming into view through the light. A slim figure was the first thing I could see, then a long, flowing mane of hair that was whipping around wildly from the heavy wind coming from the wide open door.

The figure slowly moved closer with an outstretched hand.

With my eyes as wide as saucers, I watched as the hand inched closer. "Who are you?!" The figure did not answer, instead, it shot its hand forward and wrapped long fingers around my bicep. "Don't come any closer!" I frantically warned, struggling to pull my arm free. I screamed as a sudden shock was sent through the point of contact on my arm and burned like a branding iron to the skin, even through the sleeve of my blazer. "Stop this! What're you doing?" the pain was causing my speech to slowdown and my vision to blur.

"Waking you up," the voice was completely indistinguishable and almost entirely lost amongst the void as I gave in to the pain.

I could do nothing but watch as the jet plummeted from the sky as my world faded to absolute darkness.


	5. Hey, Jealousy

**" _A man's spirit is free, but his pride binds him with chains of suffocation in a prison of his own insecurities._ " - Jeremy Aldana **

Out in the comforts of my favorite part in the backyard of the compound, I stood inside the Gravity Room at the very center, now dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts and sneakers. For the last couple of hours I had spent my time in a raging duel with an invisible enemy, who was apparently extremely resilient. I threw jab after jab, kick after kick, muscles rippling beneath sweat soaked skin, all in the effort to thwart an all too familiar feeling that was causing an tightness in his chest that was unfamiliar to me at the time. Envy.

Envious of what exactly, I wasn't entirely sure.

I had only ever secretly directed this particular emotion toward that moronic disgrace of a Saiyan, Kakarot. There was a rational reason for feeling such a way; the idiot had achieved where generations of far more deserving Saiyans never even came close to reaching, and with such ease that it use to make me sick to my stomach with the thought.

So why was this feeling all of a sudden resurfacing now?

I began throwing a savage combination of punches at the air.

Earlier that day at lunch, during my conversation with the woman, I was disrupted when her cell phone rang and she politely excused herself to answer the call. I had been absolutely fine with waiting, understanding that her position could demand her attention at any given point and that she would be right back. So why did me remembering her take that call give me this feeling? Surely it had nothing to do with whom was on the other end of said phone call. Surely.

The conversation immediately sounded like one of a personal nature, but since I was aware that she had a very friendly way of speaking to most people I didn't initially mind. I tried to busy himself with watching the boy as he ate, or rather as he smeared his dessert all over his face in his attempts to eat. As I handed the child a napkin, it was in this particular instance that I had considered that there may be some reason for why the woman was correct in her beliefs that he wasn't ready for certain things. Something I never gave her the satisfaction of admitting to.

At one moment as I discreetly listened in on her call, she mentions something about a visit and if there was a reason for it. What followed on her end made it sound like a matter of business that would take place during the weekend, that was until she finally uttered a name. It was a name that I hadn't heard leave her mouth for quite some time up until that point. I, myself, never really gave the inferior weakling much thought, still don't, forever seeing him as unfit to be the gravel beneath my boots. But the fact that Bulma was planning to meet with the weakling caused confusion about why.

Once she returned to the table and resumed our conversation, I was no longer in the mood to discuss her frivolous suspicions about what happened to that field the other night. As she spoke, I saw that she had no intentions of mentioning what she was discussing with her former lover and it caused anger to arise in my chest, but that was on account of her behaving oblivious towards the situation. So, at which point did I see a reason to be envious? And of whom?

As I contemplated an answer, my invisible opponent took a familiar form. I let out a growl similar to that of a feral dog as I threw one last jab, imagining putting my fist through its skull. The red light of the chamber intensifying the atmosphere of my session. With a grunt, I dropped my stance and inhaled deeply then slowly exhaling, calming myself. I walked over to the bench beside the control panel to grab a towel and proceeded to dry my sweaty torso.

I sighed in frustration over my emotions. Why was I feeling this way? I didn't have an answer to that at the time.

Suddenly, the voice of Bulma's mother cut through the pregnant silence. "Vegeta, dear, are you out back?"

I reluctantly reached over and pressed the button on the intercom. "What is it?"

"Oh good, there you are. I've been looking all over for you," she told me, relieved for some reason.

"What is it?" I repeated.

"Well, I was looking my garden over and realized that I have a little over 1,200 square feet to play with near the produce section, which, by the way, is growing so lovely might I add-"

"Please tell me that's not the point of this," I interrupted before she could begin her rambling. I tolerated so many of her little quirks most of the time, but right then I was in no mood to listen to her go on and on about her beloved garden.

"Of course not, dear,"

I rubbed a hand down my face. "Then can you get to the point," I impatiently groaned. One of her little quirks was her proclivity for blathering at any given moment.

"Well, as I was looking at the open space, I was thinking about what I should do with it and I wanted to know if Bulma would like to give me a hand with it," she explained.

I draped the towel over my shoulders. "I still don't understand why you were looking for me. Just go speak to your insufferable daughter,"

"That's just the thing, I don't know where she is. Last I heard she was on her way to lunch with you and Trunks," she explained, the sound of metal clinking in the background indicating that she was preparing something in the kitchen. "You wouldn't happen to you know where she could be, would you?"

I sighed deeply. "She's in East City with her cousin," I plainly said.

"Why would she be there?"

I took a seat on the bench. "She said something came up. That's all I know," I used the towel to wipe my sweaty forehead and hair.

"Alright then, I suppose I'll just give her a call. Thank you, dear,"

The room went silent, save for the soft hum emitting from the room itself. I leaned forward on my legs and bowed my head. I was trying to get the events of the day off of my mind by pushing my physical limits, and to an extent it had worked, but then all of my hard work had become a moot point with the mere mention of _her_.

"Vegeta, are you still there?" the woman's voice came back less than a minute later.

I pressed the button once more. "What is it now?" I rubbed at my temple.

"I just spoke with Van, she said that Bulma did come by..."

"As I told you,"

"...but she left the office nearly two hours ago," she finished.

I perked up at this. "Are you certain she hasn't made it back?" I asked calmly. "She could be upstairs with the boy,"

"I checked with Trunks before you. She isn't here, and the worst part is that her cellphone keeps going straight to voicemail so I can't reach her," there was a slight worrying tone to her voice, extremely contrasted versus her usual cheery demeanor.

I knew that she wanted to be back in time to put the boy to bed. My jaw clenched and my fingers unconsciously tightened around the linen on my shoulders. It never took her that long to get from there to here. I cleared my throat. "She could just be busy," I said, more for myself than her.

"You could be right, but would you mind going to check up on her for me?"

I closed my eyes in thought for a moment. Maybe something had happened. I decided to check for myself, just to be sure. I opened my eyes and stared straight ahead. "Will you leave me be if I do this?" I wanted to sound as uninterested about the scientist as I possibly could, but I knew the truth.

"It would definitely put me at ease. Thank you, dear,"

I pressed the button on the intercom to end the conversation, and without a reply I stood, switched off the room before grabbing a t-shirt and exiting. I stepped out into the night, the cool air soothing my tense muscles. I turned my head up towards the star filled sky, taking a moment to remember which direction I would embark and took off.

As I soared through the night, I couldn't help but think of how I had gotten myself in this situation. When did my relationship with Bulma actually become a relationship? When we began our tryst a few years prior, I had been more than willing to participate, even though it was not the wisest decision on her part. She was a month out of her relationship with the weakling and was probably in a place of vulnerability, but I held no remorse for what she was going through. I was only in it to sate my primal thirst. I was openly using her, and she admitted to doing the same with me, and neither of us held the other to any such agreements beyond that of our frequent romps. Our meet ups were always filled with uncontested passion, a passion that would take hold like an addict's poison, only to release us once our bodies were spent from giving in to our most basic of instincts.

Nearly a year in, she began behaving distantly, almost as if she didn't want to be around me anymore, so the physical aspect of our acquaintanceship receded, as did my interest in her. She became standoffish and temperamental, even more so than usual, and it wasn't until weeks after her avoiding me did I finally find out why.

I was looking for her around the compound, sensing for her, when I unintentionally discovered a separate life source coming from within her body. She was with child and, judging from the strength of the embryo, it was mine, and she hadn't told me. I had no clue how to handle such a thing, so when the time came for me to find a better method of reaching my goal of becoming a Super Saiyan, I chose the most extreme.

My decision was made before finding out about the pregnancy, but the fact that she wasn't willing to inform me about it made it much easier to leave. I was genuinely hurt by her actions. Upon my return, I was greeted by my casual lover...and our son.

We chose not to continue where we left off, and instead decided to focus only on preparing for the upcoming threat, then maybe discuss how we would handle our little situation. I was completely fine with this, that is until Yamcha crept his way back into the picture. After he, unsurprisingly, became incapacitated after a run in with the androids, he began spending a bit too much of his time around the woman, much to the annoyance of me. After the threat had been dissipated, I took it upon myself to force the weakling away from my offspring and out of my life. By spending more of my time with the woman and child, I unintentionally reignited the flames of our passionate coupling, only this time I was in it for other reasons.

Maybe this is where my feelings of envy were coming from; being aware that her ex was still in her life. Or maybe it was simply the thought of another man being close to her at all. That has never really changed about me.

As I idly flew over the city, it was mere minutes later that I spotted smoke billowing in the air in the middle of the park a few miles from the compound. My heartbeat was like a snare drum against my ribcage as I floated downward.

I landed about twenty feet away and slowly walked forward. I assumed that no one had been alerted to this on account of it being covered up by the trees in the park and the night itself. Already I could see that it was a vehicle, or use to be. I got closer and my eyes widened with shock when I spotted the all too familiar logo on the side of the vessel, the same vessel that Bulma had been driving earlier that day. My stomach dropped as I rushed forward, ignoring the toxic smoke, and looked inside.

I saw nothing except the briefcase and bag that she had with her.

I whipped around and scanned the area, trying to get a hold of myself. "Bulma!" I called out, but no one answered. I took a deep breath to focus before sensing around the surrounding area. I was sensing many things, but none of them were my target. I got a break when a weak life source made itself known. "Bulma!" I bursts in the direction of the ki signature with determination, only to find that she was a mere hundred feet away from the wreckage.

I found her on a burnt patch of grass in the supine position with her face turned away from my view. She had the appearance of a slumbering angel with the moonlight showering her form.

I was quickly at her side. "Bulma," I gently shook her, but she did not react. "Bulma, can you hear me?" I gingerly reached down and turned her face toward me, and the movement awakened her.

Her eyes fluttered but remain concealed by her lids. "Veg-ta..." she murmured .

"I'm here, don't worry," I carefully scooped her into my arms.

"'Geta..." her eyes came open as she tried again, trying to lift her arm to supposedly point.

I ignored her actions. "Don't try to speak. I saw the jet. I'm going to take you home now, alright?" I said, slowly taking to the air, neglecting to see what, or rather whom she was attempting to point at that was standing only a few feet away from where I had just found her.

* * *

I was crouched over the unconscious woman and stroked her face in a gingerly manner, careful not to disrupt her slumber. "You have no idea how long I have waited for this opportunity, and now I will fulfill my mission and so much more," I told her. "And you will be the key to securing that," I lifted one of her hands to my lips and placed a kiss to the back. "I hope that you will find some way to forgive me for my actions,"

Suddenly, a voice shouted out your name. "Bulma!"

I looked over to find none other than the savage himself, frantically searching.

I leaned down and placed a kiss upon her forehead. "We will meet again, I promise you this," I vowed before getting up and calmly walking away to stand beside a tree.

I watched from the covers of the night as the foul Saiyan picked up the woman. The woman's eyes opened and made contact with my own, and they became panicked right away. But the Saiyan flew away with her before she could bring attention to the fact that I was standing right behind them.

I watched the pair float away. My cards had been laid and the game could only get more interesting from there.

I walked over to the wreckage and picked up a rather long piece of glass and stared upon my reflection. It was time to adapt.


	6. Fear and Loathing

**" _We don't develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity._ " - Barbara De Angelis**

" _What're you doing to me?" I asked in a drowsy voice, staring up at the shadowed face._

 _"It will all become clear... very soon," the figure said as it reached a hand towards my face._

It was at that moment that I woke up from my sleep, shooting up to a sitting position, my heart racing out of control. I rolled over in a panic, tumbling to the floor in a heap of blankets. I hastily untangled myself from the silken restraints, but the second I pressed my palms to the hard surface in order to stand, a horrendous noise invaded my ears.

"What the hell is that?!" I loudly asked no one. It was as if thousands of tiny, shrill-voiced children were all trying to speak to me all at one time, and the sound was physically harmful to hear. I pushed myself to my knees and covered my ears in a fruitless attempt to stop the overwhelming noise. I clenched my eyes shut, dropped onto my side into the fetal position and cowered in utter terror.

Just when I was certain my head was fit to explode, I felt myself being lifted from the floor and the noise suddenly ceased and a voice faded in.

"Dammit Bulma, say something!"

I opened my eyes and found myself staring at a very familiar face. "Vegeta?" I frantically asked, actually hoping.

"What happened in here?" his tone almost sounded as if he were concerned.

I just stared blankly. "What?"

"Why were you screaming? And how did you wind up on the floor?"

"I was screaming?" I asked, confusedly.

"Yes," he said, impatient and irritated, gently placing me down on the soft bed. "Now what are you doing, woman?"

I turned my head and spotted a familiar piece of furniture before slowly peering around at my surroundings and realized my current location. I looked down and touched my hand over silk sheets. "This is my bedroom," I looked up at him, perplexed. "I'm back home?" I wondered aloud, slightly slurring my words.

Vegeta shook his head at this. "Yes," he sighed, giving me a look. "Where else were you expecting to be?"

I looked away in thought. Flashes of my latest recollection danced at the corner of my mind's eye, partially obscured by a haze of a headache brought on from whatever that was a minute ago.

I saw the blinding light, the figure, the jet going down, the brief moment at the park, and nothing else. I was trying to give my mind time to decipher these images, but I did not find that very possible at the moment. My brow furrowed in frustration at how my usually pictorial memory was now about as visual as Braille.

As I sorted through my thoughts, my hand unconsciously went up to rub at my left bicep. I winced at the sharp pain it suddenly caused. I looked down at my arm to see that it had been bandaged. "What the fuck?" I cursed, using my finger to touch the wrapping when my hand was grabbed.

"Don't tamper with it, you foolish woman," the Saiyan reluctantly scolded.

"What happened to my arm?" I asked him.

He released my right hand. "It's a burn," he said, simply.

I raised an eyebrow. "A burn?" flashes appeared before my eyes.

 _"Stop this! What're you doing?!"_

 _"Waking you up,"_

I shook my head to clear it of the thoughts.

"Yes, it's a burn," he answered.

"How?"

"You must have gotten it in the accident with the jet. Your father wrapped it up for you last night," he informed me of.

I nodded my head in understanding but was somewhat remembering it happening differently. I suddenly backtracked. "Wait a second. Did you just say last night?" I whipped to the side and stared out the window of the balcony. My eyes widened at the sight of daylight. I scrambled to pick up the digital clock from my nightstand. "It's almost ten a.m.!" I exclaimed, turning to stare at the man still standing at my bedside. "You guys shut off my alarm and allowed me to sleep almost half the day away," I angrily accused, attempting to get out of the bed, but was stopped by a light push from Vegeta.

"Sit down," he told me. "First off, no one touched that infernal thing. It was blaring noise for half an hour before I figured out how to stop it. I suppose your condition may have caused you to sleep so deeply that you didn't hear it. And second, your mother told us all not to disturb you,"

"Seriously?" I bit. I attempted to stand and was stopped again.

"You need to remain seated," he said, calmly.

I slapped his hands away with a scoff and he stepped aside with a shake of his head. I placed my feet on the floor and stood up, but my knees almost immediately buckled under my weight.

Vegeta caught me beneath the arms just in time and hoisted me back up. He placed me down on the bed once again. "I told you to remain seated,"

"What the hell is the matter with my legs? I know I haven't been asleep that long," I began stretching my limbs to increase the blood flow. "I have to get out of bed. What about Trunks? What about work?" as worried as I should have been by my current situation, it worried me more to think about those things going neglected, especially my precious bundle of joy.

"Your parents are taking care of it," I stared at him, silently urging him to elaborate. He sighed through his nose. "Your father is assisting your cousin with handling a few things concerning work, and your mother is with the boy,"

I quietly released a sigh of relief. At the very least he was good hands with his grandmother. Trunks had a daily routine that I wanted to keep up with as much as my schedule permitted, and I knew without a shadow of doubt that my mother would stick to it. It is times like this that I was grateful for the set of individuals that I had been fortunate enough to call my parents. Admittedly so, they could be a bothersome pair at times, which was most likely how most people felt about their parents majority of the time, but they always meant well. Due to their beliefs, the couple tended to approach certain situations with an almost inappropriate nonchalance, and that was something to take into account at the moment.

My mood suddenly soured. "Has anyone said anything to Trunks about me?" My parents could have easily told him the truth about where I was, in the condition that I had found myself in, or they may have lied and told him that I was busy with work, which, as far as I was concerned, was the worse to imagine. There had been many instances where I had been forced to cut our time together short due to my responsibilities after taking over the company, so I definitely didn't want him to think that this was one those cases.

"Not that I'm aware of,"

"Where does he think I was this morning the reason I didn't wake him up?"

"I just told you that I didn't know," he impatiently spouted. "You will have to consult with your mother about that,"

I huffed air in frustration. "Well, where is he now?" I further inquired. He shrugged indignantly. I let out a sound similar to that of a growl. "God Dammit, Vegeta, you are never any help!" I snapped at him. I moved to stand once again, and he moved to stop me yet again, but I angrily slapped his hand away again. "Don't touch me,"

He scoffed at my anger. "Woman, will you stop being so damned dramatic and just sit down,"

"No. I am getting out of this bed and going to see my son and you are not going to stop me, got it?" I declared.

"Why? He's obviously fine where he is, so why the sudden urgency to see him?" he asked , roughly.

I narrowed my angry eyes at him. "I am his mother. He is my son. Of course I want to see him. And I don't need a reason or incentive to do it, as you so kindly put it. I'm not you," I said, pointedly. I stood up, with all the grace of a newborn fawn, and walked over to lean on the doorframe of my closet.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" he angrily asked from behind me.

"It means exactly what it sounds like," I glared back at him. "You're always pulling some kind of neglectful bullshit with him and I'm sick of it. At least one of us has to show some consistency when it comes to showing our child that we care about him," I spat. It was a low blow, and I knew this.

He took a couple of steps towards me and stopped. "Are you implying that I don't care for my own offspring?"

I stood up as straight as I could manage. "No. I'm saying that it's wrong for you to want to be his father only on occasion,"

"That's absurd. I've done no such thing," he rejected .

"Really?" I scoffed. "You're here for a few days in a row then gone for days or weeks at a time. You may think that he's too young to notice it but he does. And, if he's anything like me, he'll remember it," I threw in his face.

His face did not betray how he was feeling, but his eyes, however, were like windows that gave me a clear view of how he took my words. "I am there when it matters,"

"Yes, you are there when you feel as if your presence is needed, but the problem is that you really don't see what's so wrong about that," I could see where the conversation was heading, that one of us were bound to say something regrettable, but there was no snuffing out the fuse that had been lit. "You're there when it matters, yes, but that's it. You miss most of the other times with him,"

"I spend more than an adequate amount of time with him. I will not allow you spout lies about me," he calmly defended.

"Vegeta, you've spent more time with me in this fucking bedroom than you have with him! Period!" My anger was slowly becoming rage with every word that left his lips, and I wasn't entirely sure of why. The burn on my arm began to radiate as my blood ran hot. I took a calming breath to stop it. "Look, I'm not saying that you aren't a good father, but that's only a little more than half the time. You have to understand why it is we both can't be that way,"

He took a few steps closer to me in an obvious act of intimidation. As always, I was unfazed. "Are you trying to tell me that all of this is because I listened to your insufferable parents and tried to let their brat of a daughter get some rest? Because if it is, I'm regretful that I even tried," he bit back.

I snorted. "Oh, please, don't even start with that. We both know that you don't give a damn. The only reason you ever stuck around in the first place was because of what you knew I could give you. That's all we ever were, and you know it," I finally unleashed the one sentence that I kept firmly hidden under the guise of contentment, and the words tasted as bitter as they sounded coming from my mouth.

He stepped into my space, backing me against the wall, staring directly into my eyes. "Do you really believe that?" his voice was a low rasp.

I stood my ground and boldly stared back at black eyes. "Is there a reason I should think any differently?"

His glare wavered a bit before he corrected it. He leaned in close enough so that we were now breathing the same air. "I guess not," he said, barely above a whisper, and turned on his heels and walked away.

I knew that my statement had hurt him, but I couldn't seem to control my mouth. "What now, huh? Are you gonna run away and hide for few a months again?" My emotions were flaring and I was doing nothing to stop it. "Go ahead, you'll just be proving my point for me,"

He halted his movement but did not look back. "I'll be downstairs," he simply shared before continuing on his way.

The sound of his fleeting footsteps gave the room a melancholic tone that was threatening to break my resolve. The second his steps could no longer be heard, I stumbled over to my nightstand and picked up the clock. Without any hesitation, the normally calm and composed woman I was lost it and just launched the device at the door he just went out of. Shattered glass and small pieces of plastic and internal parts littered the floor.

Arm pulsating in an almost audible fashion, my legs gave out and I allowed myself to crumble to the floor beside the bed. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I pulled my legs to my chest and proceeded to have a silent, emotional meltdown. "What is wrong me?" I whimpered to no one at all.

* * *

{A Few Moments Prior}

I was leaning against the wall with my arms folded across my chest and my head down and eyes on the floor, beside the door to the room that was housing Bulma. I had been stationed in this particular spot for an uncertain amount of time, and I was equally uncertain as to why. I never really knew why it was I did those sort of things when it came to the woman.

Due to the woman's absolutely inconvenient accident, I got even less sleep than usual.

Upon finding her in the park, I found it extremely odd that I hadn't been able to initially sense her location from the very beginning, and when I did find her I could barely sense her. Had I not been holding her in my arms, I would have doubted her very presence. Had she not woken up and uttered my name, I would have actually believed her to be dying where I stood holding her.

Maybe that was the reason I had spent my valuable time watching over her. I was simply curious about the state in which she was in. Her life had been wavering all night, and I just wanted to be sure that it wasn't as serious as my thoughts were allowing me to believe.

It was definitely unrelated to me being worried.

My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Bulma's father coming my way.

"Oh, I had no idea that you were still here, my boy," was how the mustachioed man announced himself. I looked up to see him now standing beside me. He was standing in his usual posture; hands clasp behind his back with a slight hunch. "Why don't you accompany me downstairs for a snack," he offered.

I discretely glanced at the door before answering. "I'm fine," I rejected.

He gave a smile, which was partially obscured by his well-kempt facial hair. "Nonsense my boy, I insist you tag along-"

"I'm not hungry," I calmly interrupted . "Now, can you please leave me be?" I wasn't in any way annoyed with the man, he was simply being his usual pushy self, I just really wasn't all that interested in moving from my spot.

"Vegeta, she will be fine..." he started.

"That's not what this is-" I attempted to deny, but was interrupted when the man continued.

"She is soundly asleep in her own bed in her own home, filled with people who obviously care about her wellbeing," the cursed man read correctly. It was not lost on me how pointedly he said that last line. He was as astute as his daughter. "I think it does us all some good to take a break from our worries every now and again,"

This was one those many things that I despised about the man and his wife, but tolerated nonetheless; their upsetting ability to calmly convince anyone of anything.

I sighed in quiet compliance. "Fine," I pushed off the wall and stood straight up before the shorter man. "But only because I want this discussion to be over," I insisted. The former scientist walked ahead of me, a smile evident from the rise in his cheeks. "And this isn't about her, either," I called out, walking to catch up, but not before shooting one last glance toward the door.

We walked in silence until we reached our destination, which was the kitchen, and took a seat at the table. There were already platters of food set out atop the table.

I could my eyebrow twitching in aggravation. He had set this up before he even saw me. I said nothing on the matter as I picked up a sandwich and began to eat, all the while keeping my focus on one particular room in the compound.

Dr Briefs ate a few pieces of fruit. He wiped his mouth with one of the white cloth napkins before speaking.

"So," he began again. "May I assume that the source of your worry is stemming from what you informed us of what you sensed in her, still. Would you mind elaborating on how that works again, exactly?"

I finished my sandwich before answering. "It's simply the process of sensing a life source. It's very similar to the way your heart monitors work; it can tell me how strong or how weak a source is. In this case Bulma's source was very weak, even weaker than usual, almost as if she weren't even alive."

The man leaned back in his seat at this. "I can see why you would be worried. That certainly calls for some concern,"

"I'm not concerned abou-" before I could get another opportunity to give an unconvincing lie, he was interrupted by the telephone in the kitchen.

"My apologies son, excuse me," the man got up to answer it. "Hello? Oh, hello, Van, how are you doing today?" he greeted. "No, I'm afraid Bulma will be taking a day to rest, so she won't be of any help," he explained. "That's sounds easy enough. Why don't I come by to lend you a helping and, also, see to it that Bulma doesn't fall behind on anything," he gave as a proffer. "Nonsense. This is nothing I can't handle. I'll see you soon. Alright, bye," he placed the device back on its base and came back to the table but did not sit. "I'm so sorry, my boy, but it seems that I will helping my niece today," he said, almost a bit too happily, going over to the door. "When she wakes up, tell Bulma that her mother and I are on top of things here for her," and he left without another word.

I sighed to myself. Accursed contraption, that telephone was.

The room was now encased in silence. I leaned back in an attempt to relax my nerves, but I closed my eyes and concentrated on my target at the same time. I nearly settled in my seat, that was until my eyes snapped open at what I was sensing, or rather not sensing from the room upstairs.

Bulma's life source had completely vanished. I got up and began making mu way back to the second level of the home. Before I got up the first step, a scream cut through the silence. I dashed up the rest of the way.

When I entered the room, the very first thing I saw was Bulma curled up on the floor, screaming as if she were being tortured.

"Bulma?" I rushed over to her.

If I knew what would come from me going in there I would have just remained outside.

* * *

Having at last picked myself up from the floor, I was currently en route to the 439 Mountain District.

Even after my little episode earlier, I was still intent on seeing Trunks, but I had been informed that Mom had taken him out for the day so as to give me some peace and quiet. So much for that. My mood was further sullied by this, but I decided to just get my day started regardless of how I was feeling.

I took a shower and got dressed in a simple pair of dark blue jeans and a navy green sweater with a pair of all black, high-top Nikes with the white symbol on the side. I didn't really feel up to wearing makeup or jewelry, so I went without accessories and settled on applying a small amount of eyeliner to disguise how I felt on the inside. The world didn't get to see me at my worst. Ever. I ate some the food that had been laid out on the kitchen table before I headed out the door.

A few days before all this happened, I had happily agreed to picking up Gohan and letting him spend the day with me in the city. In the time that had gone by since Goku passed, my relationship with Gohan had been a flourishing one. Having first learned of his existence four years after he was actually born, and him being abruptly kidnapped by his estranged uncle, and all the madness that followed, I hadn't really seen an appropriate moment to properly get to know him, and when Goku surprisingly named me as his sole Godparent during his recuperation after the fight with Vegeta, a feeling of responsibility overcame me.

Even though with Gohan being the only child amongst us made most of the veteran members of our motley crew feel some sort of sense of responsibility towards him, I felt especially inclined due to the role I could have potentially played in his life.

Back in the days before Trunks, the thought that I could become someone's parent before I even had my own was too depressing for words. I undoubtedly loved him, and I had the means to ensure his needs were met, but I just didn't think of myself as capable of nurturing him the way a good parent should. I was admittedly selfish and unapologetic about the fact, even after the birth of my child, and everyone around me knew this, so I could not understand why Goku would've choose me, of all people, to pick up where he and Chi Chi might've left off.

It wasn't until the night before the Cell Games took place that I finally got an answer to the four year old question.

 _Flying over the countryside of the East District on the eve of that faithful day, I felt the pull of nostalgia dragging my jet downward until I finally landed in an opening in the middle of the forest. Against my better judgment, I stepped out of the safety of my vehicle and into the unknown of the night. My legs carried me forward, through yards of trees and foliage, until I reached an opening where I knew a river ran through. I stepped forward, slowly, gazing upon the moon-glistened body of water. I removed my shoes and socks before I sat on the riverbank and sunk my feet into the gently moving stream._

 _I sat in tranquil silence, trying to get my mind off of what possibilities the next day might bring._

 _"It sure is peaceful out here tonight," a familiar voice interrupted._

 _Knowing myself I still jumped in surprise when I realized that the voice was right beside me. I whipped to the side and leaned away, only to find my oldest friend sitting calmly with me on the bank. "Goku, you idiot!" I punched him in the arm. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that to me?" I scolded._

 _He faked being in pain, rubbing his arm. "I didn't mean to scare you," even in his Super Saiyan form, he still managed to look like a wounded child. "I just thought I'd come out and join you without disturbing you, that's all," he gingerly said._

 _I shook my head and just stared out at the water._

 _After a while, I turned to look at him and saw that he was also staring at the river. I stared at his glowing head of hair and his teal eyes. "Goku," he turned his head toward me. "Do you think that maybe you can give..." I gestured at his face. "...a rest for a little while?"_

 _He gave a confused look. "Why?"_

 _"It's kind of difficult to relax knowing that the person next to you could accidentally kill you if he sneezes," I said, calmly._

 _"You know I have to stay this way until the fight tomorrow,"_

 _"I know that, but a few minutes of relaxation won't completely offset your training, will it?" I offered. When he appeared as though he would refuse once more I continued. "Just do this for me, please?"_

 _He sighed in defeat. "Alright, I'll do it because you asked so nicely," he jokingly complied. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he exhaled, golden hair fell and became black, and when he opened his eyes, they were back to their inviting shade of black. He looked back to me. "Is this better?"_

 _I smiled up at him. "Much," and went back to staring at the water. My smile slowly faded as my thoughts went back to what he just said. "Goku, why did you choose me?" I turned to him. "You know, to be Gohan's Godmother?"_

 _He shrugged one shoulder. "Chi Chi and I both agreed on it being you,"_

 _"I know that, but why was I picked?"_

 _"Why wouldn't we have picked you?" he replied, incredulously._

 _"I don't know, maybe because Piccolo may have been more qualified for the position than I am," I cynically commented._

 _He gave me a sweet smile. "Bulma, do you remember around the time we first met? It was during our early days of searching for the Dragonballs, when it was only the two of us, that you and I got to know each other," he carried on, nostalgia twinkling in his eyes. "For the first time in my life, I got to see how someone else viewed life..."_

 _"And saw how selfishly I lived my life," I interjected._

 _"Yeah, you had a lot of selfish tendencies, which was why you couldn't ride Nimbus, but I still saw how much you actually cared about the people around you," his face was kind and sincere as he spoke. "You may have been selfish, but when the time called for it, you always pulled through for us. Bulma, you are the most reliable person I know. There was no one else I could think of more qualified to ensure that Gohan gets everything he needs in life," a stern look graced his handsome features. "I know that the guys will help him grow stronger, physically, but I want to know that there is someone who is helping him grow up to be stronger, mentally. Make him into the man his mother always wanted him to be. That's you, Bulma,"_

 _The feeling I had at that moment was indescribable. My chest was tight with emotions to the point of that my breath got a little hitched. I never thought, in all our years of knowing each other, that he actually regarded me in such a way, that he took notice of my mental strengths and sort of placed me above the others in terms of respect for my craft. It was an eye-opening moment indeed._

 _I turned away, trying to hide the way his words made me feel. "That was very sweet of you, Goku. Thank you for that," I said, attempting to myself together._

 _"No need to thank me. It's just the truth," he lightly moved his barefeet around in the cool water. "You really have been a driving force in my life, the reason I've gone as far as I have and done as much as I have, and I want the same thing for Gohan, with or without me being there to see it,"_

 _The prospect in which he was implying brought my mind back to the looming threat that sat on the dawn of the coming day. "What do you think is gonna happen tomorrow?" I asked without looking at him, my voice barely above a whisper._

 _"Well, we're gonna all go out there and give it our all and hope for the best," he said, optimistically, staring up at the night sky._

 _"Aren't you scared at all? Cell is by far the toughest opponent you guys have ever faced. What if something goes wrong?"_

 _"Nothing is going to go wrong,"_

 _I turned to him. "But how do you know that it won't?" I further inquired, desperate for an answer. Truthfully, I hadn't been able to stop the alarming thoughts that haunted me during that period of time. I needed reassurance._

 _He simply shrugged his shoulder. "I just believe that things will turn out for the better. I feel it in my heart," he smiled at me._

 _I deflated with a sigh at his answer. "I seriously hate your buoyancy sometimes, you know that?" he gave a chuckle at my dry humor and I soon found that his laughter was infectious and joined him. I leaned onto him as I held my sides in uninhibited glee. A few minutes later, our chuckling was finished and I wiped away my happy tears. I took a moment to collect myself before I spoke. "Do you think that after tomorrow we'll still be able to do this?" I asked, suddenly._

 _He took a calming breath. "What do you mean? Do what?"_

 _"This," I gestured between us. "Just being happy like this again," I sullenly said. "Trunks told me some things about the future that he came from, and he said that a lot of things have already happened differently to prevent it, but I can't help but think that all of our efforts have simply delayed the inevitable,"_

 _"Bulma, look at me," he told me and I complied with little hesitation. He still wore a soft smile on his lips. "I promise you, no matter what the outcome may be tomorrow, that you will still be able to have more happy times to fill your life with for years to come. Trust me,"_

 _I gave him a contented smile before resting my head on his shoulder. He draped an arm across my slender shoulders._

 _"I promise that you all will be happy," he muttered, almost to himself._

 _We sat in silence for the remainder of our time there._

His last words didn't mean much to me beyond what he said, in that particular instance. It wasn't until months after his death, once I returned to the spot, that I finally understood. Goku knew that if the situation became dire, he would be the one who made the sacrifice to save all the others. Yes, he chose his words wisely that night. He would ensure our happiness, with or without him being a part of it.

Ever since then, I felt compelled to build a relationship with Gohan, to get to know him beyond the battlefield, so that if the day ever came for me to take legal guardianship over him, he wouldn't just see me as a friend of his father's. I wanted him to know that I cared...without the situation calling for it. The same went for the newest member of the Son's family, Goten, who had become a very good friend of Trunks.

At last, my jet descended and landed in front of a lone house in the middle of the land. It was a cozy little home with a smoking chimney and a beautiful view of the surrounding area on its shoulders. It always looked like something out of a vacation you could only dream of.

Before I even had the chance to get out of her vehicle, my name was already being called. I looked over to see my, now teenaged, God son flying my way.

I climbed out of the jet and was instantly engulfed in a hug. I happily returned the embrace. "Hi Gohan, how you been?" I said as I playfully ruffled his shaggy hair. I noticed how tightly he was hugging me around the waist with his head on my shoulder. "Gohan, are you alright?"

He pulled away to look at me. We were nearly the same height around this time so I could clearly see his worried eyes. "Your mom called us this morning,"

I turned my head with a sigh. Of course she called them.

"She said that you were in an accident last night and not to expect you to show up today," he said, his deepening voice filled with concern. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be at home resting right now?"

I gave him a forced smile. "Gohan," I placed my hands on his shoulders. "I assure you that I am fine. Last night was..." I paused. Scattered images flashed before my eyes, and yet again, left me with more questions than answers. "...nothing. Nothing at all," that's what I was trying to tell myself. Seeing as I couldn't seem to make a full picture out of her my memories, I could see no point in making a fuss over something that might have been nothing. "Come on, let's go inside so I can see your mom and brother before we go," I said, quickly changing the subject, ushering him into the house.

Upon entering the home, I instantly got the wind knocked out of me by something that just crashed into my stomach, sending me to the ground. I was not at all surprised when my attacker crawled up to my face and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Goten, I have missed you, too, but you have to stop doing that or I'm gonna need to have reconstructive surgery on my ribs, okay?"

He sat on my firm stomach and gave me an enthusiastic nod. "'Kay, Buma," the two-and-a-half year old said.

"I'm gonna go get mom, okay?" Gohan said as he excused himself.

"I'll be right here," I groaned as I carefully sat up and gave the boy sitting on top of me a proper hug. Unlike Gohan, I had been here for Goten since the day he was born, which had been only six months after Goku had passed. And while his older brother inherited a few of his mother's physical traits, Goten appeared as if Goku himself had created him without getting a single strand of DNA from Chi Chi. The resemblance was uncanny. I use to get nostalgic just by looking at the little clone of my best friend. It was never an unwelcome feeling, which was why I couldn't help but stare. When he got older he started hated when I did that.

The small child suddenly pointed at me. "Buma, eyes pretty,"

I smiled with teeth. "Thank you, Go Go,"

He leaned closer, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "How you do that?"

I stared at him in confusion. "Do what?"

"Pretty light!" he said, excitedly.

"Goten, what are you talking about?"

"Eyes!" he pointed at my face.

I gently picked him up and placed him on the floor. I got up and walked over to a mirror that was hanging in the hallway. My eyes widen with shock at what I saw.

The sclera of my eyes were pitch black and the irises were an ethereal blue-green color. I looked closer and could see small lines floating around in what use to be the white of my eyes.

"Holy shit!" I stumbled back, rubbing furiously at my eyes. I placed my hand on a radio on the table for support and opened my eyes to see if my efforts were fruitful. When I tried to look at the mirror again it was gone, as was little Goten and the cozy little home of my good friends.

With my arm now pulsating once again, I found that I was now in a dark room, completely barren of light. I whipped around in a full circle, but found nothing but darkness as far the eye could reach. "Hello!" I yelled out. "Can anybody hear me?" there was no response. I clutches a hand over my throbbing arm and just continued to look around. "Where am I?"


	7. I'm Just A Little Unwell

**" _Lying is done with words, and also with silence._ " - Adrienne Rich**

Furious was not an adequate word to describe me at that moment.

As I pushed my body to its very limit, my only focus was to surpass it, go further than my muscles could take me and then just keep going forward on sheer willpower. The solace of the Gravity Room is the perfect setting, a great portrayal of my inner turmoil. The blaring red lights acted as the conflicting emotions, whilst the contrived heaviness of the atmosphere represented the symbolic weight that was gathering on my shoulders due to my reluctance to deal with the state of the situation.

With my body hovering above the floor, one hand laid flat to the metallic surface and the other behind my back, I did my reps.

Push up. Push down.

The whole situation in the bedroom that morning escalated far too quickly for my liking. The last thing I expected upon walking through the door was for that to happen between us, and I was genuinely confused by her outburst. All I wanted to do was help her, but, as per usual, she found some way to make me regret ever trying in the first place.

Push up. Push down. Push up. Push down.

I had already not been in a very good mind state on account of her weekend plans with the weakling. She had said, on multiple occasions, to other people, that the romantic aspect of her relationship with her former flame was over, so I had never worried about her feelings. Yamcha's feelings, on the other hand, were less than convincing when it came to their shared past.

I swiftly switched hands, having reached my ninth rep of a thousand on each arm and going for a final one. Reversing the position of my hands without missing a beat and continued my workout.

I increased the speed in the bending of my elbow.

Push up. Push down. Push up. Push down. Push up. Push down.

There had been numerous times where I had caught him staring too long, or smiling too much, or embracing her a bit too long. It all simply showed his unwillingness to accept reality, and it was sad to observe, but a true thorn in my side. Even if he had no chance, what man could tolerate such levels of disrespect? The weakling had no shame.

Push up. Push down. Push up. Push down. Push up. Push down. Push up. Push down.

The issue over her...appointment with her ex aside, her accident, which happened right after I had left her alone, had a lot to do with my behavior that morning. Her father had assessed me correctly; I was worried. If I was being completely honest with myself, even after her unwarranted brow-beating, I was still very much concerned about her current condition. Her external injuries were one thing that had been easily taken care of, but it was her internal climate that was worrying.

Push up. Push down. Push up. Push down...push up. Push down...push up.

Over the years that had passed since my initial arrival on Earth, I had taken it upon myself to master and hone the skill of Ki Sense. It was a required skill that has served me well throughout the years. The sensation of being able to sense the presence of every living thing around oneself is, at best, indescribable. The skill was what allowed me to keep tabs on the woman, the boy and her parents, even from afar.

Bulma's life source kept fluctuating between weak and nonexistent, despite her physical condition saying that, that should not be. It was making me very apprehensive to be having these sort of issues at a time like that.

Push up. Push down.

Though I didn't feel the need to mention it at the time, but the exact moment she yelled at me as I was leaving the room her ki signature disappeared, not fluctuated but fully vanished, causing me to stop in my tracks but not look back her. Truthfully, I was planning to get as far away from the compound as geographically possible without leaving the planet, but, despite my pride telling me otherwise, I decided that maybe I should stay close.

Push up...

I was nowhere near angry enough to abandon her at a time like that. Her ki signature had yet to return, but so long as I was certain that she was still inside the compound I wouldn't feel the need to go to her.

And that was where my conflict lied.

Why should I spare her so much as a thought after she spouted her accusatory words? Why did I continue to put up with this? Why did she make me want to put up with this?

She may have had a point back there, maybe, but I hadn't really viewed her in that light for quite some time at that point. Sure, I had yet to share this with her, so it was understandable that she was still thinking that way, but surely she thought better of me...right?

I halted my movements. Why should I care about her opinion of me anyway? It's not as if I lo-

Just under the weight of mere thought, my arm suddenly could not hold the weight of my body and I dropped to the cool floor, hard, and just stayed there. It was all I could think to do in order to prevent myself from finishing that thought. With my cheek pressed to the floor, I began to steady my breathing.

No. Furious was not an adequate word to describe me at that moment, no matter how much I wished it was. For me, back then, being upset was so much easier than...whatever this was.

"Even in my thoughts, she's still managing to bother me to no end," I confessed to no one. I sighed frustratedly. "I need a break."

* * *

"Where am I?" I asked myself, still looking for even the tiniest sliver of light amongst the darkness, but found none. "Gohan! Chi Chi! Goten!" Nothing. Just an eerie echo to emphasise my solitude, along with a bone-chilling silence. I ran a nervous and shaky hand through my short hair and dared to take a timid step forward into the abyss, but found that I was unable. "What the...fuck...is...this?" I grunted out as I attempted to move my feet. It was as if the soles of my shoes had been fused to the ground. I ceased my movements with a huff of frustration.

Suddenly, the burn on my bicep began to pulsate with pain again. This time, though, I could actually hear it. It was the sound of a frantically beating heart, and I was more than certain that it wasn't my own. Yes, I was scared and confused, but I wasn't having a panic attack.

Ever so slowly, as if being burned all over again, the pain went from a nagging ache to excruciating agony. And, as if simply meant to add insult to injury, the same exact sound from earlier came back with a vengeance. An all out assault on my eardrums was in fruition. I fell to my knees, shut my eyes and covered my ears.

"Somebody! Anybody! Help me!" Okay, so I might've be on the verge of a panic attack now.

The ground quaked and, without having to see it, I could feel the space around me becoming smaller, more compact, like the nonexistent walls were closing in on me. The torment was too much for one person. I surrendered to the pain and screamed at the top of my lungs.

I called out for the only person whose name I could think of. "Vegeta!" And as if the universe were trying to tell me some cruel joke, no one answered.

Only ten seconds in and my body was more than willing to give up, but my brain had other ideas. My mind began to dissociate. Almost immediately, I was distracted with the evocative images contained within my memory bank. Vivid scenes of times spent with my loved ones played out before my very eyes.

I was remembering the day I obtained my favorite article of clothing.

 _The date was Sunday, March 23th and spring was in full bloom. Even though I had the weekends off at that point of my life, I had chosen to get up early on this particular Sunday morning._

 _I had prepared a special breakfast for a special someone. Trunks. I had enlisted my mother to keep him preoccupied while I busied myself in the kitchen. It was all for his second birthday because I wanted it to be memorable, even if he was still too young to use his mnemonic functions._

 _Me, my mother and my father sat down that morning to eat a celebratory breakfast in honor of my little prince. Where the big prince was at the time, I was not sure, but I wasn't going to allow that to spoil the day._

 _After breakfast, Trunks tore into the rest of the gifts he had received from his many fans the day prior, at his birthday party on his actual birthday, he even got a book from his cousin Van._

 _A little while later, we had a picnic in the garden and I cleaned him up before we set out for the day._

 _Though he had already had a proper celebration, I wanted to do something a bit more intimate for my only child, with only the two of us, so I asked my parents to stay behind._

 _I chose to take him to out into the city, to a very specific place I hadn't visited in years up until that point. The West City Zoo. We traversed the makeshift environments in blissful peace, even though we were amongst a sea of people. I was relieved by this. I had dressed down that day for that exact reason, opting for a simple ensemble. I wore simple blue jeans and a white tank top with a red and white plaid shirt tied around my waist, and topped off with a dark blue baseball cap atop my head. The look was meant to draw attention away from myself, and it worked. Trunks wasn't very recognizable, seeing as I hadn't allowed him to be seen by the public back then, so he was fine._

 _We spent hours going from habitat to habitat, making sure to see them all, and getting snacks along the way. Having been frequently switching between holding him on my hip or shoulders and holding his hand as we walked side by side, I chose to let him walk when we reached the final exhibit, Blue World, the dolphin exhibit. Trunks got overly excited watching the mammals perform tricks in the enormous pool, going so far as to try jumping into the pool to join them but, thankfully, I was quick enough to stop him._

 _He tried to make a break for it so many times that I wound up having to sit him on my lap and wrap my arms tightly around him to keep this two-year-old in place._

 _He eventually did find a way to free himself near the end of the show. He ran around the glass-protected pool trying to get one of the aquatic performers to look his way, all while I chased after him. When that failed, he must have seen the way the dolphins responded to the trainers after giving them fish, because the very next thing he did was snatch a corndog from an adult male and threw it into the body of water. He continued to do this with everyone else's food he could get his tiny hands on until I finally caught him by the back of his overalls._

 _"That's the last time I let you have sugar, little man," I panted as I carried him back to our seats. I was preparing to leave when something unexpected happened._

 _"It looks like Opal and Skip," the names of the two dolphins that were performing that day. "have a little fan out there!" the head trainer announced. I swore under my breath, hoping that the man wasn't referring to my little fan. But, as my history would tell you, I had no such luck. "Ma'am, why don't you bring the little guy down to meet my friends over here!"_

 _Now I was forced to choose between complying and pretending as if I didn't hear him, the latter of which was increasingly difficult because of the way my little troublemaker was staring at me with pleading blues. My decision had been reluctantly, and the next thing I knew I was carrying the small wonder back towards the pool._

 _For the next ten minutes, the trainer allowed Trunks to interact with the dolphins, which he was more than willing to do, and throw them treats after performing their stunts. I had chose to wait off to the side, not wanting to be recognized, until one of the trainers motioned me over._

 _"I think Skip wants to give you a kiss," the trainer said. I allowed it as he grabbed my hand and led me closer to the pool. "Just crouch down," I was instructed. I did as I was told and crouched beside the pool. Few seconds later, Skip appeared, causing me to flinch a bit. "Okay, now lean forward," I slowly did so and, surprisingly, so did the dolphin. I gave it a quick peck on the snout. The mammal quickly dove back down into the pool, only to emerge again and happily glide over the surface of the water. "I think he likes you!" the trainer laughed._

 _"I tend to have that affect on people," I boasted. Suddenly, I was lightly sprayed with water. I opened my eyes to see the other dolphin swimming away._

 _"It looks like Opal might be a little jealous," he smirked, handing me a towel._

 _I took the linen and dried my face, careful not to knock my hat off. "I also tend to have that affect on people as well,"_

 _He turned to the crowd. "That's the show everyone! I hope you had as good a time as these guys!"_

 _As we made our way out of the zoo, Trunks spotted the gift shop and we spent another twenty minutes getting one of every item in the tourist trap. Somehow, he managed to slip away from me again. When I finally did locate him, with some help from all the noise coming from his direction, the sight was perplexing at best._

 _"How did this even happen?" I stared in awe of all the broken trinkets and messed up t-shirts. The floor was soaked with the water from the dozens of broken snow globes, shelves were no longer shelves, and there was paint all over the place. The entire section of the shop looked like a tornado had just torn through it. "You were missing for less than two minutes," I looked down to see that he was actually wearing one of the t-shirts and couldn't help but give a reluctant smile at how big it was on him._

 _I ended up having to reveal myself when the owner showed up. She was furious about the damage, but quickly changed her tone when I introduced myself and apologized for the mess my son made, and it was more than fair to have me cover the cost. The woman was so starstruck she even offered me a t-shirt, but I refused and said to call with an estimate of the damage._

 _Later that night, I thought long and hard about maybe being a bit more strict with my son. While I tucked him in, he jumped out of bed to get something. He sheepishly handed me the t-shirt he was wearing earlier._

 _"Sawy, Mama," he said._

 _I happily accepted his peace offering before pulling him into a hug. "Thank you baby," I cooed. I laid him back into the bed and tucked him in with a kiss on the forehead. I walked over to the door and held my hand above the light switch. "But this doesn't change a thing." I lightly threatened. "Goodnight," I sweetly said before switching off the light and leaving._

 _I went to bed for the first time with the shirt on, and it had been a frequent piece of my nightly wardrobe ever since._

That day had ended in the worst way you could imagine, but if nothing else it was exciting. I wanted it to be memorable, and I got my wish. The only way that day could have been any better was if a certain someone had been there with us.

It was really no fault of his, mainly due to me not feeling the need remind him of the date that connected us together for the rest of our lives, so I didn't expect him to be there for a Day-After-Your-Birthday outing. Saiyans didn't even celebrate birthdays anyway, so the fact that he showed up at all for the actual birthday party made up for missing the day after.

Not even that noticeable absense could dampen my happiness that day.

I was swimming in the bliss of my memories, completely shutting out the terrors going on around me.

But all of a sudden, and all at once, everything just... stopped.

I timidly removed my hands from my ears and opened my eyes and looked up. "Wow!" I gasped at the sight.

The room was no longer an endless void of darkness. The black had been replaced with hues of blue, lit with tall, flowing streams of what appeared to be sound waves on either side of me. Feeling mesmerized by the waves, I got back to my feet and reached over a hand, unable to stop myself like an insect to a bug zapper, and upon contact, was met with the distorted noise from earlier. But it was different somehow, less frightening and more decipherable. Calmer almost.

My fingers glided through the waves like splashing water as they passed me by. "What is this?" I wondered aloud, in awe of what I was witnessing. I narrowed my eyes at the anomaly. The way in which it flowed seemed...not right for some reason, like its frequency was off somehow.

With not an ounce of fear left in my heart, I turned my body to fully face one of the strange walls and placed both hands through the stream and it began to take another shape, flow with a different pattern. The distorted noise became clearer and clearer the more my hands moved within the wave. Without noticing it right away, I realized that my feet weren't stuck to the floor anymore.

I stared at my feet and then looked back up at my hands. "I guess that means I'm doing something right, I guess."

As if being guided by the noise, I suddenly began directing the millions of lines within the wave to what I believed to be their rightful path. The noise was becoming so clear that I could almost make out a few words.

Just as I felt as though my sorting was complete, the waves closed in on me.

I opened my eyes to find that I was now back in the well-lit front room of the Sons family, still leaning against the radio, music now playing in the background. "What the hell just happened?" I frantically looked around the room. I looked back to see that Goten was still sitting in the same spot as before. I scrambled over to the mirror. I was overly relieved that my nightmarish eyes were gone.

A mocking but comforting voice broke my stupor. "Falling in love with your own reflection again?"

I whipped around to find Chi Chi standing in the doorway. "Chi Chi?" I asked , somewhat dumbly.

The shorter woman came closer. "You were expecting some other overworked woman?" She joked, pulling me into a hug.

I easily returned the embrace. I then looked around the room and found that someone was absent. "Where's Gohan?" I asked, pulling away.

"He's just getting some things from his room. He should be back out in a minute," she answered. "Your mother told me about your accident last night. What happened?"

This again. I sighed and averted my eyes.

 _Suddenly, my jet shook as if it had been struck and a moment later the sound of the door being forced open caused me to try and open my eyes, but I was still very unable to see on account of the bright light now being inside of the jet with me._

"I have no idea," I said, only half a lie. "I think I fell asleep behind the controls or something. I don't know," still not an entire lie. Technically, I did pass out behind the controls. What happened after that was completely clouded, though. How could I tell them about something I couldn't even recall? I didn't want to make anyone worry over something that might've been nothing. "So," I began, changing the subject. "Gohan must be packing up his entire room, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's been back there forever,"

"What?" Chi Chi raised a dark eyebrow. "He's been back there for like a minute,"

It was my turn to stare at her like a crazy person. "No. I've been in here for close to twenty minutes,"

"No. You've been here for less than five minutes. Gohan literally just told me that you just got here," she countered.

'That could not possibly be! It felt like I was in that room for so much longer!' was what I thought to myself, trying to sort out my perception of time.

Chi Chi placed a hand on my shoulder and brought me out my head. "Bulma, are you sure you're alright?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm good," I tried reassure my friend. I glanced over at the old clock and it read a quarter to twelve. "Shion Adair," I reminded myself with a murmur of the woman's name.

"What did you say?"

I shook my head dismissively. "Nothing,"

"Are you sure? Because I'm sure Gohan would understand if you wanted to reschedule this for another time,"

I looked back to the black-haired woman. "No, it's fine. Trust me. I just have an appointment with a potential employee to take care and then we can do whatever he wants afterwards, okay?"

"Okay. Just try to take it easy on yourself, okay, Bulma,"

I gave a forced smile and nodded. "I hear you loud and clear, Princess," I usually called her by that title when I was joking with her, even though she actually was a princess, but this time I was using it as a means to deflect.

It worked. "Oh shut up, you're more of a princess than I ever was!" she fired back, and Gohan showed up just in time to further deflect. "Good, you're back. Take your annoying Godmother and go,"

I threw an arm across his broadening shoulders and led us toward the door. "Yeah, let's go before your loud-mouthed mother deafens me," I poked fun, quickly exiting as the shorter woman launched her shoe at me.

We climbed into my jet and Gohan suddenly turned to me.

"Bulma, are sure you don't want to do this some other time?" he asked as he settled in the seat.

I blankly stared out the windshield, hands firmly gripping the controls. All I was thinking about was that dark room and all that happened in there, and how I needed to find a way to get back there. So to truly answer the question of whether or not I was really okay. No, I was not, and I was fully aware of this.

I gave him a smile that did reflect my inner conflict. "Let's go,"

* * *

Back at the compound, I was in my garden, tending to my flowers with my grandson. "Trunks, be sure to spray the entire flower. That's the key to proper hydration,"

"Yes, Grandma," he said, using a large spray bottle full of water. He awkwardly held the bottle at an angle as he struggled to squeeze the trigger.

"Good, now you can move on to the hydrangeas while I work on trimming my rose bushes," I instructed . Having earned my masters in botany, I enjoyed using my knowledge on my passion, which were one in the same. Plants. I allowed my husband and daughter to have their little labs and work spaces , all located in one wing of the compound, but my garden had its own wing. The largest open space in our home.

I was humming the tune of Aretha Franklin's Natural Woman, a favorite of mine, when all of a sudden the doorbell chimes throughout our home.

Without stopping what I was doing, I gave a verbal command. "Pull up front door camera one," I had to get it was because I was the only one who could, what with Bulma being asleep, supposedly, and my husband out.

A monitor lowered down in front of me and the image of a young woman appeared on the screen, one I did not recognize. "Yes, how may I help you?"

The woman seemed almost surprised to hear my voice as she calmly looked around. "My name is Shion Adair. I have an appointment with Bulma Briefs," her smokey voice said, coolly.

I sighed. I figured it must've be one of the applicants. 'Bulma was in no shape to interview anyone,' I thought to myself, glancing over at my grandson, who was wearing a determined expression on his young face as he focused on spraying the flowers. I told myself that I could handle this one on my own. "Come on in,"

* * *

I actually remember that particular day she came over.

Back at my place, a little after Bulma and Gohan left, I was picking little Goten up from the floor when I finally noticed that there was music playing. I turned around to see that the music was coming from our old radio.

"What the...?" I stared at the wooden relic. "Since when did this thing ever work?"

If we only knew.


	8. You Had A Bad Day

**" _There are no facts, only interpretations._ " - Friedrich Nietzsche**

 _"…I know that this is very difficult to believe at the moment, but it is the truth. So believe me when I say that I am not here to do you any harm," it stroked my cheek with a feather light touch. "The Saiyan and your offspring, well, I cannot say the same for them,"_

 _I stared up at the shadowed face, only glowing eyes were visible in the hours of darkness. "Why do this to me? Why do this to them? Trunks has nothing to do with any of this."_

 _"It's simple. Because the Saiyan has you, and I need you," the light voiced figure said. "And the boy...well, I'm still considering."_

 _"What do you from me?" I hazily asked, trying my damnedest to fight against slumber's powerful call._

 _"Patience...Bulma," it said my name, almost distastefully._

 _"Bulma!"_

 _"What do you want...?" I felt myself slipping away._

"Bulma, snap out of it!"

As if someone had simply changed the channel I was watching, the scene before me changed from that night in the park to the image of an incoming building.

"Oh shit!" I cursed. Quickly gripping the controls, I yanked backwards, causing the jet to fly straight upwards, gliding up the building wall. I clenched my jaw as my muscles strained under the pressure to keep the flying craft steady until it cleared the structure and made it back in to open space.

I loosened my white-knuckle grip with a breath of relief. "That was a close one," I activated the autopilot and turned to my young passenger. "Are you alright?"

Still completely calm and staring at me with concern, Gohan nodded. "I'm fine. Are you sure you're okay?"

I sighed through my nose, my eyes back forward. "I really wish everyone would stop asking me that," I groaned.

"Bulma, you nearly landed your jet in someone's office just now. If that isn't a cause for concern..."

"I just got a little distracted, don't worry about it,"

"I'm not a kid anymore, and even if I was, I can clearly see that something is wrong. What is it?"

This is what I got for spending so much time with him, he was becoming too perceptive. Although, that little stunt I had just pulled wasn't really all that subtle.

I gave him a serious look. "Admittedly, I have been a little...out of sorts since I got up this morning, but I am fine. If I wasn't I would say so, okay?" I insisted, but Gohan gave me no reply. The teenager simply turned his head in the opposite direction and lazily stared out the window without another word.

It didn't take a genius to see that he was annoyed with my adamant and futile attempt at denial, even though I could no longer see his face. I stared at the back of his head for a moment before focusing my attention back ahead. This was going to be a long day.

My phone rang, just in time to combat the tension-filled silence.

I answered the device and placed it on speaker. "Hello,"

"Hey Bulma, it's me," it was Izumi. "Sorry to be calling you right now. Your father told us about your accident."

I resisted the urge to toss my phone out of the speeding vehicle. "It's no problem. What's up?" I skillfully hid my disdain beneath a question.

"I wanted to ask about how the interview with that woman go,"

"Oh, I haven't met with her yet. I'm on my way there now."

"Uh oh,"

I raised an eyebrow with suspicion. "Why are you uh oh-ing?" I asked. "You did tell Shion Adair to meet with me today, right?"

"I did, but..."

"But?" I dragged out.

"I may have told her to meet you at the compound." Izumi gingerly said.

"What?" I exclaimed, causing Gohan to look my way. "W-why would you do that?"

"I'm sorry, Bulma. When your father called in this morning I changed the location of the meeting to accommodate you."

I bowed my head with a groan, making sure to quickly place my eyes back up to the windshield. "Izumi, while your thoughtfulness is usually your best quality, it's making me want to strangle you right now."

"Sorry sweetie,"

I sped up my jet, determined to make it before my mother could do something to scare away the applicant.

"Shit,"

* * *

Looking up from my task at the sound of the door opening, I saw the young woman that was at the front door walking in. She took slow, awkward steps as she gazed around in astonishment. Her blue pencil skirt, cream blouse and black high heels stuck out drastically surrounded by the foliage, shrubbery and trees.

I smiled at the way the woman stopped dead in her tracks when she finally noticed all of the animals. It was absolutely hilarious how Bamboo chose that very moment to wake up from his nap and hopped down from the branch of the tree he was resting in. The woman, none too gracefully, fell backwards on to her behind. The feline advanced on her and she understandably froze in fear.

Taking pity on the young lady, I finally spoke up. "You don't have to be afraid of Bamboo. He's only playing with you," the fearful woman looks over to me with startled eyes. "He's harmless, I promise." As if on cue, the big cat lifted its bottom in the air and pretended to pounce before taking off to where it knew Trunks to be. "See? Harmless,"

The woman picked herself up and grumpily began dusting herself off while walking over to me.

"Cute little guy, isn't he?" I said about one of my many beloved pets.

"Yeah, he's adorable," she sarcastically mumbled. Once she was finished straightening out her clothes, she extended a hand. "I'm Shion Adair,"

"I gathered. You already told me your name at the door, remember?" I playfully pointed out. I removed my right glove and accepted the proffered hand. "Panchy Briefs, nice to meet you today," I released the appendage and removed my remaining glove and began walking, motioning for my guest to follow. "So, can I assume that you're here for an interview about the event planning position for my daughter,"

"Yes, ma'am. Actually, I was hoping that I would get the opportunity to speak with her today," she said as she struggled to keep up in her heels.

I took a seat on a patio set surrounded by my daughter's favorite flower, the Blue Squill. "Please, sit," I gestured my hand towards the empty seat across from me. Shion graciously accepted, most likely wanting to get off of her feet. "So, Miss Adair, may I ask what type of experience have you had doing this sort of work?"

"To be honest with you, in terms of event planning, not much," she confessed. "I'm a recent graduate with an MFA,"

"An MFA?" I echoed in confusion. "In what?"

"Photography and graphic design, and I dabbled with fashion a little in my sophomore and junior year," she answered.

I was bewildered by her answer. "What would make a person with that kind of experience in the arts want to do something as polarizing as event planning? Which has very little to do with the arts, might I add."

Shion gave a thoughtful smirk as she leaned forward on her elbows on the table. "Well, to be frank, I am a fan of your daughter. So when I heard that she was looking for a new employee, I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to work with her,"

I leaned back in surprise at her words. "That was some real honesty, Miss Adair. I don't think that anyone has ever come to an interview and wound up telling the interviewer that they weren't actually interested in the position they're applying for. That has to be a first, I'm sure of it,"

She shrugged. "I think that we tend to get more done when we're being straightforward. I don't mean to offend,"

"I'm not offended, just...perplexed...impressed even. It's too bad my that my daughter couldn't be-" I started to say, but was interrupted by the sound of my grandson's laughter. He came sprinting into my line of sight with his rambunctious feline companion close behind. I beckoned him over. "Trunks, dear, would you come over for a moment. I want you to meet someone,"

He excitedly ran over and jumped onto my lap. I turned him around to face our guest.

"Trunks, this is Shion,"

"Hi," he shyly greeted. "Who is she?" he asked, still staring at the woman.

"Shion might be one of your mommy's newest employees," I said, now noticing the inquiring look the woman was giving the boy. I raised an eyebrow at this. He spoke before I could question the look.

"Grandma, can I go play with Bamboo?"

"Of course, sweetheart, go ahead,"

He instantly jumped off of my lap and went to locate his little friend. Shion's eyes followed him all the way.

"So that's her boy," she said, watching him run around.

"Yes, that's him. Isn't he just perfection," I said with a smile.

"Though he seems like a wonderful child, some might disagree with your sentiments," the woman said idly, still watching him.

"Excuse me?" It was no secret that I loved, absolutely adored my only grandchild, so to actually hear someone say such a thing was downright confusing. "What would make you say something like that?"

"I'm simply stating that not everyone feels the same way about children, not even their own,"

"I don't understand. Where are you going with this?" I inquired.

She held up a hand. "I meant no offense to you or your grandson. I have a tendency to think aloud in some of the most awkward of moments," she intertwined her fingers and rested her chin atop her conjoined hands. "You see, I wasn't in any way referring to his physical appearance. I will agree that he is a beautiful child. But he was born out of wedlock, and even though that isn't the worse thing in the world, it is still frowned upon by a mighty few,"

I was a bit caught off guard by the comment. "Miss Adair, h-"

"Please, Shion,"

"Shion," I corrected myself. "How old are you? If you don't mind me asking,"

"I don't mind at all. I turned twenty seven in June. Why?"

"It's just that I haven't known a Millennial to care about something like a child being born out of wedlock, that's all. I wasn't expecting that...at all," I confessed.

"But I don't care about the nature of his parent's situation. As I said before, I was simply thinking out loud," Shion coolly stated.

I stared at her in contemplation. I took the moment to take in the woman's features. Dark eyebrows lied above coffee-colored, almond-shaped eyes that were superolateral to a straight nose. Full lips were painted a deep crimson, contrasting perfectly against olive skin. Her chestnut her was tied back into a bun on the back of her head with a few loose strands framing her pretty face. She had the physical allure to match her Casablanca-level of mysteriousness.

"Shion, where you are from?" I suddenly asked, wanting to know more about the woman sitting before me.

This particular question seemed to cause her confident mask to waver. "Why would you want to know that?"

"It's always easier to get to know someone by their hometown."

"I, uh..."

"Mom,"

I looked up at the sound of my daughter's voice coming through the intercom.

"Mom, if you're still in the house, can you tell me where you are, please?"

"Bulma?"

* * *

I quickly landed my vehicle on the side of my family's compound. I switched off the engine and turned to my passenger. "Gohan,"

The teen hadn't uttered so much as a syllable since that near collision with that office building.

He turned to face me, still without speaking. The neutral expression he was wearing said that he was really trying not to be upset with me.

"I have to make sure that my mother isn't going to scare this poor woman away," I lightly said. "Do you think that you could find something to preoccupy yourself with until I'm done?"

He unbuckled his safety belt with a nod. "Sure. Just come and find me when you're ready." Gohan then slid out of his seat and stepped out of the jet.

I followed him out and proceeded to capsulize the vehicle before placing it inside of my metal, wallet-sized capsule case.

We both walked inside together. Upon entering through the front door, we went our separate ways at the first turn in the hall.

I watched the mentally weathered teen as he made his way towards my lab. I could tell from the solemn slouch in his shoulders that he wasn't having a very good time. This was a seldom occurrence when it came to the half breed. But not seldom enough for me.

With the death of his father still fresh in the hearts of our motley crew, Gohan, while still retaining his relative sweetness, had become something of a reserved soul. He tended to spend his days studying and helping his mother take care of his little brother. He had all but renounced fighting.

Though he occasionally still trained with Piccolo and Vegeta, and I had seen him spar with his mother a few times, he had seemed to have lost his drive for fighting. It was an inherited drive, a flame that had been lit by his father's love of battle, the thrill of the fight, so one could not help but wonder if the passion was ever truly his to begin with.

Even though I had witnessed my fair share of combat, fighting was one of very few areas I just did not have much insight on, so the topic was one that I tended to avoid.

Anyway.

I went about locating my mother. A few minutes of searching came back fruitless, and I was becoming more frustrated by the minute.

A light bulb suddenly helped shed enough light for me to see the path to finding my target. I had to restrain from connecting my palm to my forehead for not thinking of the idea from the start.

The intercoms.

I finally remembered, crossing over to where I knew was the nearest place for one of the devices-having installed one in every room of the compound for security reasons- and instantly pressed a button.

I did not know which room to connect to, so I simply broadcasted my voice throughout the entire place.

"Mom," I tried, but got no response. I sighed before trying once more. "Mom, if you're still in the house, can you tell me where you are, please?"

Just when I believed that Mon may have went out for the day, her voice rang throughout the house.

"Bulma, dear, what are you doing out of bed? You should be resting,"

I rolled my eyes at the coddling words. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the Garden, sweetheart. Why?"

"Has a woman stopped by today?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was kind of expecting someone today, so I'm hoping that I haven't missed her."

"You haven't missed me, Miss Briefs. I'm very much still here!"

I raised an eyebrow. That was not my mother's voice. But I did happen to recognize the smoky tenor from the phone call I received the day before. "Is this Shion Adair?"

"Yes, it is,"

"And are you with my mother right now?" I asked, silently hoping that the woman was just carelessly wandering the compound. Anything except her being possibly interviewed by my mother.

"Yes, I am. And your son is adorable," Shion happily added.

I perked up at that. Trunks! I hadn't seen him all that day, and I was only reminded of that just at that moment. How sad.

"Would you like for me to send her your way, dear?" Mom offered.

"No, just stay where you are. I'm on my way to you," with that, I took off towards my mother's wing of the house.

On my way through the enormous residence I passed by a window and suddenly halted my steps.

This particular window just so happened to have a perfect view of the dome-shaped structure that took up a small section in the left corner of the backyard. The flashes of light and softly heard humming indicated that it was currently in use.

I didn't have to think very hard about whom was inside.

"Vegeta," I whispered to no one while I stared.

Suddenly the argument from earlier came back with a vengeance.

 _"We both know that you don't give a damn. The only reason you ever stuck around in the first place was because of what you knew I could give you. That's all we ever were, and you know it,"_

 _He stepped into my space, backing me against the wall, staring directly into my eyes. "Do you really believe that?" his voice was a low rasp._

 _I stood my ground and boldly stared back at black eyes. "Is there a reason I should think any differently?"_

 _His glare wavered a bit before he corrected it. He leaned in close enough so that we were now breathing the same air. "I guess not," he said, barely above a whisper, and turned on his heels and walked away._

I cringed at the memory of my bitter words, and I then now realized that those words were unwarranted.

The whole argument had been almost entirely unprovoked, but, for reasons I still could not fathom, I attacked him with my pent-up, somewhat self-conscious emotions regarding our relationship. My temper was set ablaze faster than that of a dry field of grass on a scorching, cloudless day. I had never really been the type to hold my tongue, but that sudden exclamation of spitefulness was so unlike me.

Even though that moment helped push us forward, I still sometimes I wish that I could take back what I said to him that day.

Sigh.

I watched as the lights suddenly shut off. A few minutes passed before the door opened and out came my scorned lover, drying himself with a towel. Not even the sight of his sweaty, naked torso could make my feelings of guilt towards my outburst recede.

He must've felt himself being watched as he slowed his steps until he came to a complete stop. He turned his head and our eyes instantly met.

Even with sixty feet of yard and a window between us, I was still able to make out his frustrated face.

I needed to talk to him.

Before I could even make a gesture of acknowledgment that I even saw him, he walked away.

I sighed. Maybe later, I guess.

I continued on my way as well.

My feet slightly dragged as they carried me through the many twists and turns of my family's estate.

This was not me.

After what seemed like hours, I at last reached the entrance of the Garden. The glass doors swooshed open as I approached, giving me free passage inside.

"Mom?" I called out upon entering. "Where are you?"

"Mama!" an excited voice responded.

I looked over in the direction the voice came from, just in time to see my son burst through a row of bushes with his favorite feline companion close behind. Both were running directly at me.

The duo tackled me to the ground in uncontrollable excitement, but still gentle enough to not cause any harm.

"Mama!" he exclaimed with a beaming smile, throwing his arms around my neck.

I immediately wrapped my arms around his small body. "Trunks!" I happily said, returning his smile with all the maternal joy in my heart. It had been less than twenty four hours since I had last saw my child, but every minute away from him felt like days. I sat up and held him in my lap. "Hi, Munchkin. Did you miss me?"

He nodded a yes into my neck, tightening his grip on me. "Where were you, Mama?"

"Mommy had a few things to take care of this morning," I told yet another half-truth. It was becoming far too easy, too instantaneous for my conscience to handle lightly. "Have you been having a good time with Grandma today?"

He pulled away to look at me. A guilty expression was all over his delicate features. "I was playing with Bamboo," he quietly confessed. As if to further emphasize what he was saying, the feline came to kneel beside me with his ears fallen in a show of apology.

You see, two weeks before all of this, the two of them had been playing in the Garden. Because I had been busy in the lab, I asked my mother keep an eye on him. Everything was going fine, the two of them played together often, that was until they... um... escaped my mother's watchful eyes and got out into the main house...

Long story short, Bamboo tried using a capsule as a chew toy and Trunks wound up behind the controls of a jet. All of this took place indoors.

Though I was annoyed by the fact that he was clearly still being permitted to play with the animal without my consent, I did not have the energy to deal with this particular issue at the moment.

"That's alright," I grunted as I stood up, whilst holding the toddler. "Why don't we go find Grandma,"

After a minute or so of walking, I found my mother sitting at a table with a young woman. The woman spotted me before I had a chance to properly announce myself. She rose from her seat to greet me.

"Miss Briefs, my name is Shion Adair, we spoke on the phone yesterday?" she said calmly, offering her hand.

I placed my son on to the ground and accepted her hand. "Of course, I remember you, Miss Adair." I released her hand and took a seat. "One second, please," I said upon noticing that my child was still standing there. "Trunks,"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Gohan is here,"

As expected, his blue eyes lit up with glee. "Really? Where?" he looked around as if were hoping to find the teen standing behind him.

I smiled at his excitement. "Yes, he's in my lab," I looked to where my mother was sitting beside me. "Mom, do mind taking him to see Gohan. I would like to speak with Miss Adair in private, if you don't mind."

"Not all, sweetheart," she easily agreed, for some odd reason, before standing and gently taking Trunks by the hand. She looked towards our guest. "It was, um...nice meeting you Shion," she hesitantly said before walking away.

My eyes followed her out. Yet again, that was odd. But I shrugged off the strange behavior before focusing my attention to the woman sitting across from me. "So, can I assume that you would prefer I call you Shion?"

"Yes, I would. Miss Adair just sounds a little too formal for me," she answered.

Being the people person I am, I assessed the woman's appearance and could immediately see how purposely stiff her attire seemed. The hair was a bit too neat. The blouse was buttoned up all the way to her neck. A tight pencil skirt and painfully high heels.

"Shion, may I ask you a question?" I started with, leaning forward on my arms.

She leans forward onto the table, mirroring my position. "Anything,"

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, quite. The chair is very comfortable,"

I shook my head with a soft chuckle. "No, that's not what I meant. I was referring to the fact that you look desperate to take your shoes off. Am I right?" The look on her face was answer enough. "I know from personal experience that stilettos aren't really made for nature. And you don't exactly seem like the strict, not a strand out of place business type. No offense."

Shion opened her mouth to reply but shut it with a sheepish smirk. "You are a lot more impressive than I originally thought. And that is saying something," she calmly said.

I shrugged. "I've seen enough stuffy business people to see that you're clearly not one, but did decide to make an effort for my sake." Shion appeared to be preparing to defend herself, but I raised my hand and continued. "First impressions are everything, I know, but understand that you already caught my attention yesterday on the phone. I just wanted to see the woman with the Kathleen Turner voice in person."

She giggled at that. "I'll take that Kathleen Turner thing as a compliment,"

"As you should. She has a uniquely wonderful voice."

"Well, my pointless attempt aside, how am I doing so far?"

I leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. "I'll need to ask a few more questions before I can answer that."

"Well ask away."

Half an hour of light conversation later, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Shion had a degree in the arts and was actually interested in designing visuals for the company. She had been a fan of my work for years, and even chose her degree with the hopes of someday being a part of the Capsule Corp. team.

Surprise, surprise.

As I escorted the woman to the door, I stopped and turned to face her. "It was very nice meeting you today, Shion. Really." I offered her my hand.

She took the hand immediately and shook it. "Thank you for your time, Miss Briefs,"

"Please, I prefer that my in-house employees call me Bulma,"

"Alright then, Bulma, I...wait. Did you just say...?" she trailed off, still shaking my hand.

I smirked at her surprised expression. "I sure did. Starting Monday, you're going to be the newest member of my graphic design team."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously,"

"And I'll be working here? At the compound?" she gaped.

"Yes. And before you ask, yes, we will be working together," I laughed.

"Thank you!" Shion, before she could stop herself, launched her body forward and engulfed me in a hug.

I awkwardly patted her on the back. "Alrighty there, Shion,"

She immediately released me. "I am so sorry! I just..."

"It's alright," I assured, opening the front door with a warm smile. "I'll see you in four days."

"You can count on it," she smiled before composing herself enough to make her exit.

"Oh, Shion, one more thing," I said, stopping her. "I expect to see the real you, okay?"

Shion smirked. "Absolutely, Bulma," and walked away.

I shut the door and went to find my mother and the boys. "She was definitely an odd one."


	9. You Keep Me Insane, But I'm Not Ashamed

**" _Reality is the leading cause of stress amongst those in touch with it._ " - Jane Wagner**

 _I stumbled around in the darkness that shrouded the park, my head was spinning as I stumbled forward and fell to my knees on the grass._

 _"Bulma," a muffled voice called out from behind me._

 _"Shit!" I quickly tried to get to my feet but with much difficulty. My heart was beating in my ears out of fear as I attempted to place as much distance between myself and my attacker as possible in my currently muddled state._

 _If ever I wondered what it was like to be in a horror movie, this was definitely what I could imagine it must feel like._

 _I stumbled into tree after tree, the only things keeping me from falling over with every few steps I took. My eyes lit up at the sight of a clearing where the lights of the city could be seen. I pushed myself off of the tree and made another attempt at running._

 _I did not make it very far._

 _Without seeing it coming, I felt my hip brush past something and my body was suddenly seizing from being somehow electrocuted. I tumbled to the ground as my legs gave out in pain, and was unable to call out due to my leg being grabbed and given another shock, rendering me a twitchy, sputtering mess._

 _"I did not want to resort to hurting you, but you are a stubborn one," my assailant mused, dragging me farther back into the park by the ankle._

 _I managed to roll over onto my back as I slid across the grass, hazily staring at the clothed back of my captor, trying to ask a desperate question. "W-what did y-you...?" was all I could coherently articulate._

 _"I gave your system a small shock of a few hundred volts of electricity. Not enough to stop your heart, but just enough to disrupt your nervous system...temporarily, of course," The Figure elaborated, still dragging me. "I just need to complete this task for you. It would have only taken a moment, but you are making it increasingly difficult to do so, what with all of your running,"_

 _I attempted to grab one of the passing trees, but it seemed that I was lacking dexterity at the moment. Though she was unable to outwardly show it, I was silently panicking as I tried to think of a way out of this bleak situation._

 _I was suddenly brought to a stop before a single thought could come to mind._

 _My unfocused eyes stared upon the night sky. A few seconds went by and I foolishly believed that I had been left alone, but only for about ten seconds._

 _The Figure reappeared and loomed above me, its face like a dark, blank slate._

 _My eyes widened at the fearsome sight._

 _The Figure came closer. "Now. I need you to lie very still. This can be very painful, but, of course, that all depends upon your cooperation," it ominously warned. Still coming closer, its long, flowing hair acted as a curtain for the interaction._

I was violently shook before a face could be made out.

I shot up out of my sleep, frantically looking around for the culprit of my crash, only to find that I was now in my lab, sitting at my desk.

I leaned back in my chair with a sigh.

This was the third time today that I had spaced out like that. My mind kept taking me back to that night before, but was only giving me fragments at a time; the ending, a small portion of the beginning, and then bits of the middle. That odd order made it extremely difficult for me to put the pieces in their proper place.

And there was a desperate need to do so.

Something deep down inside of myself was saying that I needed to remember what was said to me. My heart was trying to tell me something, but my brain wouldn't allow me to listen. It was as if I was keeping _myself_ in the dark about what transpired between me and that figure.

This was an alarming turn of events.

But the fact that I couldn't fully recall something so recent was the real cause for worry in and of itself.

Along with a way above average intellect, I had been gifted with an eidetic memory. I have memories that go back as early as two years old. I have the ability to perfectly recall something after only being exposed to it once, vividly remember small details, able to echo exact words, recognize a voice with ease. But none of this was possible for me for a little while after that accident.

"Are you done staring at the wall like an idiot, or should I just come back?"

I whipped my head to the side at the sound of the voice, finally realizing that someone was standing beside me, and very much fell out of my chair with a yelp of surprise. I landed on my backside in an awkward fashion. "Ouch," I groaned. I opened my eyes to find my cousin shaking her head with disapproval. Nothing too out of the ordinary about that really.

"For the love of God, Bulma, can you be any more graceless?" Van commented, arms crossed over her chest.

I blew some hair out of my face before answering. "I guess not," I relented. I began picking myself up from the floor. "Not that I'm not over the moon to see you and all, but, uh, why are you here?" I asked as I made my body vertical.

"If you must know, I just arrived here with your dad and Panchy told me that you were down here. I know that you heard that he was helping me today,"

I nodded in confirmation. "I did. I need to thank him for that when I see him," I reminded myself aloud.

"As you should. The man came out of retirement for you," Van all too willingly added. "All because The Golden Child right here can't help but make a spectacle out of herself. I mean really, you couldn't find somewhere less conspicuous for a crash landing?"

I raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. "What're you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that your vehicle made the front page today," she pulled out her phone. She swiped her finger across the screen a few times before presenting the device to me. It was an online newspaper article with a headline that read "Crash & Dash at West City Park!" along with a photo of my wrecked jet. "They're still trying to come up with ideas of who the owner could be,"

"Oh shit!" I swore, taking the phone and scrolling through the article.

"That would be the correct reaction in this predicament. I'm almost certain that was the exact same reaction when the West City Post got a hold of the photo." She got in to an even more annoyed stance. "What on Earth would possess a woman in your position to abandon her custom-made, limited-edition model jet smouldering in the middle of West City Park?" Van angrily asked.

I handed her back the phone. "But I was told that it was retrieved around 3 a.m. this morning. And even if someone managed to get a snap of the scene, how is it even possible that this story has already been printed?"

Van placed the phone in her pocket. "However this may have happened, we have to get to work fixing it. Since this is more towards your field of expertise, what with the press and all, do you have any ideas about how and where to start?"

I smoothed my bangs back in frustration, only to have the hairs bounce right back into place on my forehead. "I know the Editor in Chief of the newspaper. I'll talk to her and see what I can do about letting the story die out with the rest of the week," I said, sitting back down in my chair.

Van turned my chair towards her before speaking. "And how, might I add, are you planning to get a shark like her to just drop a story like this?"

I stared up at her with a straight face. "Simple. By giving her something else to talk about,"

The tanned-skin woman narrowed her eyes. "And what will this something else be?"

I looked off thoughtfully for a moment. "This could be a stretch, but it might be worth it if I play this just right." I gave a confident smirk at her confused face. "You let me worry about this, okay?"

Van stood unconvinced. "Bulma, before you do something irreparably foolish, remember that you are the face of this company. If you screw this up it could hurt us all. Do you understand me?" she sternly said.

"I got you," I calmly reassured.

"I'm not joking around with you right now. You need to take this seriously,"

This time I gave her a confused look. "When have I ever not taken something seriously?"

"Other than practicing the proper use of contraception?" Van nonchalantly bit.

I winced at the comment as if it physically hurt. "Ouch. Low blow, Van, low blow," I lightly said in order to keep my language from becoming colorful.

The story of how Trunks came to be was not something I was particularly proud of, but I was in no way ashamed or regretful of the situation that Vegeta and I, two consenting adults, had placed ourselves in. How could I when the end result was my beloved son? I had gladly owned up to my part in the accidental pregnancy, so no one had the ability to hold it over my head, but it still occasionally stung to be reminded of how I allowed my lascivious emotions to take the reigns back then.

"Whatever," Van muttered, and began making her way towards the door. "Just do whatever it is you're planning to do first thing tomorrow morning," she said as she made her exit. "Oh, and that God son of yours told me to tell you that he'll call you,"

"Huh?" I began searching around my work space. This was the first time that I was noticing that neither my mother nor the boys were anywhere in sight. "How in the..." I cut myself off. I looked down at my watch and it read 8:35 p.m. "What the hell?" I was more than a little confused by where the time had went, but waited until the door closed behind my agitated cousin before hopping out of my chair.

Did I just pass out after I came in here? What am I? Some kind of Freddie Kruger victim? I thought to myself as I began pacing back and forth. I tried to think back to earlier that day to could have been causing these bouts of absentmindedness.

I suddenly stared at the palms of my hands. At that moment, a memory flashed before my vision.

The darkness of the room, all too similar to what you would assume ones subconscious might look like. The sudden quaking that shook my entire being. The absolute terror that gradually increased with the pain on my bicep, and the subsequent breakdown that followed. And then there was the calm. The beautiful hues of blue that flowed like two streams and the voices that called out to me, urging me to extend a limb, risking the appendage at the insistence of the disembodied voices.

I took a calming breath and the memory vanished.

The feeling I experienced in that dark room had been nothing short of euphoric. I wasn't entirely certain as to why, on instinct one could suppose, but I began looking around my lab for any object that I could get my hands on. My eyes landed on one of the five monitors that were in various places around my work area. I slowly inched forward with an outstretched hand like a woman possessed.

I wanted that feeling of euphoria back, and my body was telling me that this was the way I had to do that.

I pressed my fingers and then palm against the screen and shut my eyes. I slowly lifted my lids, hoping to be back in the solace of that dark room, but found that I was very much still standing in my lab.

With an almost solemn sigh, I retracted my hand. Why didn't that work? I thought to myself, but a thought came to mind that gave me pause.

Why did I expect that to work in the first place?

I rubbed at the side of my neck in utter confusion.

I gazed around, remembering that I was still alone, surrounded by nothing but products of my own design. I felt the many devices calling out, as if speaking to my very soul. But the voices from before were not responsible for the bewitching attraction. No. This was something else, something more...inviting.

Surprising myself, I ignored the beckoning of which the origin I could not understand, and practically forced myself to leave the lab.

The remainder of my time awake wad ruled by a singular thought; that moment in the Son's living room.

What happened to me over there? What was different? I wanted to know. I had to know.

* * *

The day was seemingly dragging on, I was sure of it.

It seemed as though time itself was moving at a glacial pace for me that day.

The one time I wanted the day to end in a hurry and this was what I got instead. I had spent the better half of the day hidden away inside the G.R., far from the knowing eyes of the human that trampled over my pride with nothing but her words.

I saw her a few hours before.

I just caught her staring through the window, standing there like some sullen statue, seemingly watching me. But that would have made no sense. She was the one responsible for the current state we were in, so why the pitful look in her eyes?

That would confuse for years to come.

I would have only been lying to myself if said that I hadn't had a nagging feeling in regards to the woman. All day long, I had been trying to keep a minimalistic watch over her, whilst raging war on an invisible enemy. Her state had been causing me great worry our disagreement that morning.

 _As she finishes her verbal assault, I approached her with a purposely intimidating posture._

 _"Do you really believe that?" I asked her, hoping that she truly didn't._

 _Her light blue eyes grew dark and her pupils dilated as she glared in to my eyes. "Is there a reason I should think any differently?" she spat at me._

 _My glare wavered for a moment when I felt her presence vanish. Her ki signiture was gone. Not fading, not bleak, just...gone. If I hadn't been standing only a few steps away from her I would have assumed the worse._

 _I quickly schooled my features before answering her._

 _I leaned in closer, wanting to know if the distance would help my senses. It didn't._ _"I guess not," I spitefully said, turning to make my exit when she spoke once again._

 _The anger and hurt in her words were almost visible that time. I wanted to turn and angrily proclaim that I had no such plans to do such a thing. But, as my record would show, my pride and anger towards her at the moment won out. "I'll be downstairs," I simply informed before leaving her alone._

Her ki signiture had returned a little while ago, and some of the tension left my body upon finding that she was indeed still at the compound.

But now I was just following her every movement, and my unconscious actions were putting me at odds with myself.

I was currently sensing that she seemed to be just walking around the estate. I looked over at the clock on the wall. It was almost two in the morning. What was she doing up wandering about at this hour? I internally asked.

I let out a frustrated grunt as I glared up from my position on the metal floor. Why was I even sparing her actions so much as a thought? As long as she stayed on the property I didn't even care what she did.

I hopped up from the floor and resumed my strenuous workout, determined to keep it up until my body gave way.

* * *

Hours later, I was woken by a gentle hand on my shoulder. My eyes fluttered open to find my mother standing in front of me with a worried expression. "What is it Mom?" I asked, drowsiness slurring my words.

"Sweetie, have you been out here all night?"

"Out here?" I said, very confused. I raised an eyebrow as I looked past Mom, and, sure enough, the first thing I saw was the beautiful mix of colors that made up the morning sky. I was now noticing the faint sounds of the city around me. I finally realized that I was on the balcony that was attached to my bedroom, curled up in one of the two wicker chairs that went along with the matching table that decorated the space. I was definitely outside. "I...um, I guess so."

The night had not been kind to me in my confused state.

After getting ready for bed around 10 o'clock that night, I had desperately tried to embrace slumber, but the unanswered questions swimming around in my head made me reluctant to do so. I thought that taking a walk around our home would help, but it only managed to make me even more restless.

The voices seemed to be everywhere I went, calling out like a needy child. And like a neglectful parent, I did my absolute best to ignore it. I put it off as being a result of my recent traumatic experience. I wound up on the balcony as a last resort to getting as far away from the voices without actually leaving the property.

"You actually slept out here like this?"

"Yeah, I think I did," I let out a yawn as I slowly straightened and stretched my aching limbs. The consequences of sleeping in the chair were to be felt throughout the rest of the day. "I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to try and relax a little. I guess I just fell asleep like this," I explained as much as I could. I conveniently left out my late night ruminations. "What time is it, anyway?"

Mom just looked down at her watch. "It's a quarter to ten," she read aloud. "You look exhausted. What time did you fall asleep last night?"

I placed my bare feet on the cold concrete floor, causing me to wrap my arms around myself to shut out the chilling bite of the morning air. "It was after three when I got back up. It must've been at least an hour after that when I finally came out here. So it had to have been around five when I fell asleep," I explains, standing up and walking inside.

"So you were up all night?" she asked, following closely behind me.

"Kinda," I shrugged. I walked over and took a seat on the bed. "To be honest with you, I've just had so much on my mind in the last twenty-four hours," I lied back on top of the comforter on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I sighed. "All of this nonsense with Vegeta. My accident that happened in the middle of a public park, and it being plastered all over the place the very next day. Trying to get the entire company ready for the winter season, with some less than cooperative people working under me. And, on top of everything else, I still have to find an event planner."

She came to stand in front of me. "I heard about the headline from Vanessa yesterday morning. What're you two thinking about doing?"

I sat back up with a sigh. "I told Van that I was going to pay a visit to Tatsuki Moon over at the W.C. Post. I actually should start getting ready to head over in a bit," I said, getting up and heading over to my closet.

"Tatsuki Moon?" she wondered aloud. "Wasn't she that gossip columnist..."

"Who used to stalk me in grad school?" I predicted, grabbing a few articles of clothing before stepping back out into the room. "Yeah, that's her. She got a job over at the Post about seven years back. I guess she's moved up from a third-rate snake to the head snake in charge," I flippantly said.

"Oh. Well, hopefully she'll be able to help out the situation and not turn it in to a complete scandal."

"I can only hope," I sighed. I rubbed at the side of my neck in frustration. "I'm gonna jump in the shower before I get my day started."

"Alright then," she replied.

I started towards the bathroom when she spoke again.

"Oh, and Sweetie?"

I looked back at her. "Yes, Mother?"

"There's someone here for you waiting downstairs," she said before making her towards the door.

"Who is it?"

Her voice sounded from the hall before closing the door behind herself. "You'll see," was her only reply.

I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't really expecting anyone that day, so I wondered who it could be before stripping down and stepping in to the shower.

Twenty minutes later and I was now wide awake and dressed to face the day ahead of me. I had chosen a dusty pink blouse that I had buttoned all the way up to my neck. The blouse had long sleeves to cover the bandage on my arm. I also chose a black pencil skirt along with a pair of black stilettos. My makeup was subtle with only a light brush around the eyes to conceal the dark rings that were forming.

I made my way through the hall as I pulled out my phone to check for any messages or unread emails. There were dozens. I sighed at how many things could pile up in just twenty four hours. The probability of me ever wanting to take a break during one of the company's busiest seasons was now a mere after-thought.

I gracefully descended the stairs, all the while still keeping my eyes on the phone. I walked in to the living room and was about to make a beeline for the kitchen because I hadn't eaten a single morsel since yesterday morning, but I was stopped by the sudden sound of a voice.

"You always have to keep a guy waiting, dontcha?"

I whipped around to find none other than my ex-boyfriend standing in the middle of the room with a bouquet of flowers.

"Yamcha?" I said, confused by his presence, but still walking in to his waiting arms. I put my phone away and wrapped my arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around my waist and lifted me off the floor. "What're you doing here? I wasn't expecting you until at least tomorrow,"

He placed me back on to my feet, but neither of us pulled away from the embrace. "My schedule cleared up earlier than expected, so I thought I'd give you the pleasure of seeing my handsome face on this lovely day," he said, jokingly, with a dimpled smile.

I raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "A cocky athlete at my doorstep, and he's bearing gifts?" I used a dramatically thick southern accent as I exaggeratively swooned. "The Gods must have surely answered my ever-yearning prayers,"

"Absolutely, my darlin'," he played along, with an equally thick accent. "And what a mighty fine athlete I am,"

I snorted and lightly smacked him on the chest. "Oh, shut it, you," this had always been easy for us; the playful banter. Unlike Vegeta, Yamcha was always a willing participant in some of my more... undignified behavioral tendencies. Ever since the early days of our on again, off again relationship, the adorably shy bandit slowly began showing that he could be just as much fun and just as silly as I was. But I understood early on that he was usually just trying to keep up with me. And I adored him for that.

"Hey, if you keep hitting me I'm not gonna give you the flowers I brought," he said, releasing me and holding the bouquet of purple Iris' behind his back.

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I even want those things. You know my favorites are the Gladiolus flower and Blue Squill. I also would have settled for a Blue Rose. So if you were planning on buttering me up you have greatly failed,"

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get those sort of flowers at the last minute? And I know you like purple Iris, too," he justified, handing me the flowers.

"True, on both accounts. But it's the thought that counts, so thank you," I smiled, graciously accepting the gift.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray slacks, that went well with his black dress shirt, that had the sleeves rolled up his forearm, and black designer shoes. "So, I can see that you're dressed to kill. You busy this morning?"

I went to set the bouquet down on the island in the kitchen, he followed closely behind. "Yeah, there are a few things that need to be taken care of by this evening," I leaned forward with my arms on the marble surface, staring at the man across from me.

"Oh, well, that's too bad,"

"Why?"

"I wanted to take you out to brunch, but I guess I'll just have to take a raincheck for now," he said with a shrug, his face fallen a bit.

I pursed my lips in thought for a moment. His behavior was beginning to bother me a bit, but I chose not to make a comment on the matter. "I might be able to meet you for a late lunch, if that's okay," I offered.

"You don't have to do that for me. I did just show up uninvited,"

"I'm not promising that I'll actually be there," I quickly shot down. "I will try, though, for you. We both know that you're nothing but a big baby, using that sad face to get your way," I lightly poked at the sight of his pout.

He smiled confidently at this. "You never could resist the brown eyes," he said, coming around the island to stand in front of me.

I stood unimpressed at his cocky remark. "If I can recall, which I very well can, there have been plenty of instances where I have easily resisted those brown eyes," I smirked, turning my back to him, about to leave the room.

"That's true, to a degree. But. You were always helpless whenever I did this,"

"Did wh-" I was preparing to turn back to him, when he suddenly grabbed me and began tickling at my sides, mercilessly.

I was trying to wiggle away from him, all the while laughing myself to tears. "St-stop! Please!" I managed to get out. I hadn't really felt at ease in the last couple of days, so it felt good to just laugh. I needed that.

I actually felt a shift in the atmosphere of the room and suddenly opened my eyes. My laughter instantly died down. "Yamcha, stop,"

There, standing a few feet away from us, was none other than Vegeta. His expression was blank as his eyes drifted down to where Yamcha's arms were still wrapped around my waist. Our eyes met a moment later.

"Please, don't allow me to stop your... _fun_ ," he practically spat, turning on his heels and going farther into the house.

"Hi, Vegeta, how have you..." Yamcha tried to say to him, slowly releasing me, but he was already gone. "...been," he finished. "What's wrong with him?"

I stared at the door the Saiyan just went through. I composed myself with a deep sigh. "I have to go. I'll call you later," I quickly said, leaving him behind in the kitchen.

So much for being at ease.


	10. And Then I Realized

**" _How might it feel to be fully present in every moment all of the time?_ " - Joyce Rachelle**

Not long after that awkward encounter at the compound, I was now landing in front of a large office building. I encapsulated my vehicle before making my way through the front entrance like a woman on a mission.

I entered a workspace bustling with chatter and confidently strutted right on past the employees, that had now ceased what they were doing to instead stare quietly at me as I passed them by, nothing but the sound of my heels on the floor could be heard throughout. I ignored the stares as I entered the elevator.

I was already aware of who my target was, no use in wasting my time with the underlings.

As the elevator made its slow ascension towards the top floor of the building, a light humming noise coming from the machinery, I allowed my confident facade to fall as my mind went back to what had occurred back at the compound.

The initial shock I had at seeing my ex, that was followed by a feeling of great relief. The beautiful bouquet of flowers. The light conversation that gave way to playful antics, helping to ease the weight of the world off of my shoulders. But my reprieve was short-lived, feeling it all come crashing back down with a vengeance. With the sudden appearance of Vegeta came the harsh reminder that my day had just begun.

Suddenly, though, my breathing became heavier, my fists clenched at my sides, and the humming noise began to ring in my eardrums. The small space of the elevator was seemingly becoming tighter, but my focus did not shift from the metal wall in front of me. Normally I should've been able to see my own reflection, but only the face of my Saiyan lover could be seen staring back at me.

His face was fixed with an audacious expression of indifference. It made me sick with anger. How dare he? How dare he stand there as if he were above us all? Above me!

These were the outrageous thoughts going through my head.

The voices came back, and they seemed to be much louder this time.

I covered my ears and shut my eyes in pain. My state of panic was only growing, threatening to take me to my knees.

And just then, a memory came to mind.

 _I remembered heavy breathing, rhythmic movement and my nails digging in to hot flesh as strong hands gripped my thighs and guided me through it all._

 _He was lying on my bed on his back as I straddled him in the darkness of my bedroom. My body was nearing its climax as he moved me to and fro, causing me to fall forward with my hands on his chest. I was showing all of the signs that soon I would not be able to go on much longer._

 _Usually this would've caused him to slow down a bit, for my sake and to savor the moment a little bit longer, but not this time. This time it was like he couldn't fathom slowing down for me. This was the third time that night that we actually had sex, and it seemed like he was getting progressively more aggressive with each round._

 _As his pace went unchanged, my arms finally gave out the arrival of my orgasm and I fell with my head landing on his shoulder. This did nothing to deter him. He simply flipped our positions and continued his rough pace._

 _I fisted the back of his hair with my left hand while my right hand clawed in to his back. He grabbed my legs and I immediately wrapped them around his waist. I began speaking incoherent nonsense as I was brought to the edge yet again._

 _He leaned in close and nestled his nose against my neck, as I gripped the hair on the back of his head and scratched the hot flesh of his back. I felt his teeth gently scrap against my pulse...and then nothing. He just went completely still._

 _He pulled away to look down at me for a moment, eyes wide with what could've been described as shock, before pulling away entirely and scurrying to sit on the edge of the bed._

 _"Vegeta...what's wrong?" I asked, still attempting to catch my breath. He ignored me. "Vegeta, what is it?" I tried once more as I sat up and wrapped the blanket around myself._

 _"Nothing," was what he replied with, leaning forward on his knees._

 _I moved closer to him. "It doesn't seem like nothing," I said, speaking softly in the darkness of the room. "Are you alright?"_

 _He rubbed the back of his head with a sigh and said "I'm fine."_

 _Me being who I am couldn't just take this at face value. I wish I had. He'd been acting kinda off around this time, and I had finally seen enough._

 _"You are clearly not fine, Vegeta." I touched his back. "Talk to me,"_

 _"I think that I..." he trailed off, hiding his face from me. He suddenly stands up. "That I'm going to take a shower before I go."_

 _I stared confusedly at his back. "Before you go? Go where?" Him randomly leaving was not the confusing part. What got me was that, up until that point, I thought that we were past the hit-it-and-leave part of our relationship. Neither of us had done that in a while._

 _"Does it matter?"_

 _"Not really, but it's kind of_ _sudden. Can't you just go in the morning?" He stayed quiet, but I knew something was bothering him so I continued. "Why don't you sit back down so we can talk for a little bit."_

 _"I'd rather not," he told me, and immediately succeeded in pissing me off._

 _"I'm just trying to help." I angrily said. "You've been acting so weird lately that it's beginning to become harder to ignore,"_

 _"I haven't been acting any sort of way. And I sure as hell don't require your help," he stated, still not facing me. "All I need is to be stronger, and I cannot do that wasting my precious time with idle chit-chat."_

 _I shook my head. Even though he'd been doing this a lot the past year, it still bothered me because of the randomness in which it occurred. I was in no mood for this. "Enjoy your shower," I said, not even attempting to hide my annoyance._

 _He walked in to the bathroom._

 _After he left, I didn't see him again until nearly 4 weeks later._

That was about 2 months before the crash in the park happened, and he and I hadn't spent more than an hour together, outside of the bedroom that is, before I took him and Trunks out for lunch that day.

With these thoughts in mind, my episode suddenly ceased.

I straightened my blouse as the doors slid open and I walked out like nothing happened. I couldn't really explain it at the time, but I just felt...better.

I had a diva-like pep in my step as I walked down the middle aisle of numerous cubicles. The was an ocean of chatter that slowly died down as passed each station until the only thing that could be heard was the sound of my heels on the wooden floor.

I paid them no mind as I turned a corner and walked along until I came across some double doors at the end of the hall. An assistant sat at a desk about ten feet from the door. It was a young woman, early twenties, petite build with long, curly auburn hair, green eyes and pale skin.

She stood as she noticed me approaching. "Excuse me, can I help you?"

"I'm here to see your boss," I simply said as I continued walking.

"Wait! You can't just go in there." I stopped with a sigh and turned to fully face her. "You'll need to make an ap-" she stopped mid sentence upon finally seeing my face. "Oh my gosh! You're Bulma Briefs! Like The Bulma Briefs!"

"So I've been told," I nonchalantly answered.

The girl shot out of her seat and excitedly came to stand in front of me. "Ms. Briefs, I am huge fan of your work."

"I'm glad to hear that. It's always nice to meet a fan," I said with a smile.

"Where are my manners?" she exclaimed after staring at me for an awkward amount of time. "You must be here to see Ms. Moon,"

"Yeah, I am. Is she here by any chance?"

"She actually just got back from a meeting so she should free for the next two hours,"

"Thank you," I said, taking a step towards the door.

"Wait. Ms. Briefs," she said, stopping me yet again. "If it's not too much trouble, is it possible for me to get your autograph before you go?"

I smiled at her as I replied. "Sure, it's no trouble at all," she quickly scrambled to her desk and grabbed what appeared to be a magazine and a sharpie. She stumbled a little before stopping in front of me. I giggled a bit at her overzealous movement.

I took the magazine and sharpie, but my eyebrows rose in surprise at what was on it.

It was a photo of me and Van on the cover of Dino Tech, an annual magazine created by my mom that was named after the original name of the company. Van and I were posed side by side with her sitting in a chair wearing a dark blue pantsuit with a white button up blouse. I was standing up, leaning on the side wearing a pair of form-fitting, beige khakis with a white tanktop. I had on brown gloves and boots with goggles hung around my neck.

The edition was called the Future of Engineering, an idea that came about right after I entered grad school and began to be recognized for my small contribution to the company when I was only nineteen years old. Van, being a couple of years older than me, was also being recognized for her work within the company and was originally deemed as the more talented out the two of us. But we both knew the truth. And while there were more than us featured in the issue, our alleged "rivalry" was all anyone could talk about at the time.

"This is from thirteen years ago," I said as I flipped through the pages. "How do you have this?"

"My dad got it for me when I was nine. This was the first I had ever seen you, and I guess I became an instant fan,"

You like science and engineering?"

"Well, yes, but not exactly. I was more of a fan of your fashion sense. Especially the photo on page twenty,"

I searched for until I came across the page. It was a picture of me wearing a beige jumpsuit halfway down and tied around my waist with a black sports bra. I also was wearing brown boots and gloves with goggles on top of my hair. I was lying on the hood of a red sports car with one arm behind my head while the other was holding a wrench on my bare stomach.

The girl came up beside me. "Although this was the moment that I became a fan, it wasn't until a couple of years later that you became my role model,"

I looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

"A couple of years after this, you did an interview about your opinion on the direction technology was headed at the time," she told me. "You told them about your plans for Capsule Corp. and said that it is human nature to want to change, but more importantly that everything has potential to be great," she gave a shy smile. "You've been inspiring me ever since."

"But why?"

"Because you gave a shy science geek the confidence to find her inner fashionista. You may not see the significance of that, but you changed my life," she concluded with a genuine honesty.

I smiled down bitterly at the image in my hands of a less cynical me. "So who am I making this out to?"

"Rebecca. My name's Rebecca," she told me.

"Well, Rebecca," I began as I signed the cover and my page. "You have definitely made my day a lot better than when it started." I wrote personal message expressing my gratitude to her before handing back the magazine.

"Thank you so much, Ms. Briefs," she said, hugging it to her chest.

"No. Thank you, Rebecca," I smiled.

She looked down at the autographed issue. "My friends are never gonna believe this,"

An idea suddenly came to mind. "Do you have a cellphone?"

"Yeah," she dug it out of her pocket. "Why?"

I took the phone and opened her camera. "Come here," I pulled her close and told her to smile. She immediately did so as I wrapped an arm around her waist. We took several pictures and for the last one I grabbed her face and kissed her on the cheek causing her to blush. I handed her back her phone. "There. Now they'll have to believe you,"

She stared in awe at the photos. "This is amazing!"

"Nice meeting you, Rebecca," I said as I continued on my way towards the double doors.

Without bothering to knock, I strolled right on in. I was greeted with the sight of Tatsuki Moon sitting behind her desk looking something over on her computer. Tatsuki was a Japanese woman with long, black hair that was in a braided ponytail and had a proclivity for the color red. Her arms each had large tattoos of a koi fish surrounded by a detailed background. I hadn't seen her in a while, but the ink was nothing new. That's how I knew that the tattoos connected at the top of her back, which were visible because of her open back blouse, and also that she had Japanese characters written down her spine.

She was the only person I knew that was brave enough to display such things in her position and line of work.

The sound of my heels walking forward finally alerted her of my presence.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" Tatsuki mused, standing up and walking around the desk to meet me. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit from the Golden Prodigy of Technology?"

I stopped a few away and crossed my arms over my chest. "I think you know why I'm here, Moon,"

She placed a hand on her hip. "This wouldn't happen to be about that article we published yesterday, would it?" she asked, feigning innocence. "No one knows who the owner of the jet that crashed in the park the other night, but I hear that someone might be close to putting the pieces together. But that's just what I heard," she finished with a shrug.

I shook my head. "I can see that you're still just as cutthroat as you were ten years ago. Still a snake,"

"Yeah, well, now I'm the snake in charge," I smirked at me.

"Congrats," I deadpanned. "I'll cut to the chase. I want you to scrap the follow-up article that I know you have planned and let the story die out with the rest of the week,"

She raised an eyebrow at my request. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm asking you to," I simply said.

She leaned back her desk. "So it was you that was in that accident. I was only making a guess, but I didn't really think that it was the truth," she told me.

"Which is why it can't be published,"

"It was just an accident. What's the big deal?" Tatsuki asked.

I sighed through my nose. "I just don't need that kind of attention right now,"

"So let me get this straight," she began, crossing her arms over her chest. "You want me to throw out an exclusive, that only I have, because a public figure doesn't want attention?"

"Tatsuki, this is deeper than my public image," I accidentally said out loud. I closed my eyes with a sigh because I knew what was coming next.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I gave no immediate response, so she said more. "Tell me, and I might consider dropping the story,"

And I did tell her some things, but not all. "The truth is, I don't know if my accident was an accident,"

She pushed off of the desk at this. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that something happened to me that night that I can't really explain,"

"Maybe it was a malfunction," she suggested.

"My jets don't malfunction," I quickly dismissed.

Tatsuki got a thoughtful expression on her face. "Then maybe it was foul play," she seemed to wonder out loud.

My mind instantly went back to that night and what I was allegedly a victim of. The crash, the chase through the park and all that followed. It still shook me to my core just thinking about it. Hoping deep down inside that it was all just a result of trauma.

Sometimes I wish that I could go back and slap the denial out of me.

Finally coming back to reality, I replied. "What makes you say that?"

"Maybe it was something at the scene of the accident that might give us a better understanding,"

It was my turn to stare confusedly. "Wait. What? What do you mean something at the scene? The scene is gone, wiped clean. There isn't a trace of it left at the park and no evidence besides what was collected and brought back to me."

"Except for the nearly three dozen pictures on my flash drive," she confessed, looking down.

"I figured you would have some because of the article, but how did you get a hold of them in the first place? And so quick?"

She looked up at me. "Because I'm the one that took them,"

I stared at her with confused eyes. "What?"

"I was there. I'm assuming maybe a little while after the accident happened was when I saw it,"

At that moment I was hit with an idea. "Can you show me what you have?"

"Of course," she agreed as she walked the desk and sat down in front of her laptop. She typed a few buttons as I came around to stand beside her. I could see that the drive was already in the device. She opened a file and, sure enough, there were exactly thirty two photos, all showing various points of the scene.

I leaned forward to get a better look. "When you were there, did you happen to see a briefcase?" I asked as my eyes scanned the screen.

"A briefcase?" she repeated. "I can't recall seeing anything like that on the ground anywhere. But then again, I can't recall much at two in the morning. But," she clicked a specific set of photos. "There my have been something like that inside your jet." She slid the laptop in front of me. "Take a look,"

I carefully scanned the photo of the ruined interior of my jet. Everything in there had been scattered and or shattered. The windows were broken and wires hung loosely all over the place. And then I saw it.

"Dammit. I still don't see it," I said to myself.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Sort of," I stand up straight up and look at her. "Tatsuki, what were you doing in West City Park at that time of night anyways?"

She proceeded to tell me about that night.

Apparently, Tatsuki had been working late and was on her way home, which the route included passing by the park. As she drove by, a bright flash caught her attention. Because it was so dark the light was glaringly noticeable to the point where she easily made out the spot where it was coming from.

She wanted to ignore it, that was, until the light started moving. She drove towards the light and parked her car before she got too close. She grabbed her camera and got out. She came within fifty feet before the light suddenly vanished. With its source nowhere to be seen, Tatsuki decided to take a closer look. That's when she realized that she was standing in the middle of a crash site. The journalist in her said to get some pictures of what she was seeing.

She went around taking snaps of everything before a sound coming from the trees spooked her and she quickly left.

We were now both standing and walking towards the door.

"So what're you planning to do?" she asked me.

We stopped walking and I turned to her. "I don't know yet. The possibility of foul play hadn't really crossed my mind." That was a lie, but she didn't need to know that.

"Aren't you gonna start an investigation on this?"

"Investigative journalism is more your field of expertise," I joked a little. "But that's not a bad idea. In fact, would you mind giving me a copy of your photos?"

"There's no need for that. You can have the originals," she offered.

I raised an eyebrow at her offer. "But what about your exclusive?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "There'll be other stories. Had I known that it was this serious I wouldn't have considered it in the first place"

"I still find that hard to believe," I cynically told her.

"Bulma, what happened in the past is something I'm not exactly proud of, but it was just business. And so was this. Nothing I do is ever supposed to be personal. But this is personal for you and your family, maybe even life-threatening, so I think I can make an exception this time," she said, walking back over to her desk.

As she did, I finally took the time to look around her office. My eyes landed on a framed photo on the table to the side. In the photo was Tatsuki sitting beside an asian man with his black hair cut low on the sides with the rest of his hair in a ponytail. Sitting on both of their laps were two little girls that looked like the splitting image of Tatsuki. This was a picture of her family.

I realized something in that moment. I came here with the immature prejudice of a vain twenty year old, not taking into account that maybe Tatsuki wasn't that same person who did whatever it took to make it. Maybe she had changed. Maybe I was the one who needed to learn how to leave the past behind me.

I wish I knew how to let things go. It would've spared me a lot pain and heartache later on.

"Here you go," she said as she approached me, handing over the drive.

I took it with a nod. "Thanks," I quietly said. "So, how old are your kids?" I gestured towards the photo.

"Oh," she quickly looked at the picture and back to me. "My twins will be five in November," she said with a proud smile.

"Wow! Girls, and twins for that matter. I have my hands full with one little boy. How do you handle it?" I joked with her.

"A lot of trial and error, plus my husband Shawn is a good partner in crime," she told me.

"I can't imagine ever having a daughter of my own,"

"Why is that?"

"You know that saying that girls are just tiny versions of their mothers. I definitely wouldn't want a little me running around the place." That was true. I really did not want a daughter, simply out of a fear of messing her up. Funny how things work out sometimes. Very funny.

"I felt the same way back before they came along. You might have a change of heart later," she smiled. "So, how is your kid?"

"He's good. He can be a handful sometimes, but he's great most of the time," I smiled right back. I looked at her as I gathered the courage to say the next words. "I'm happy for you, Tatsuki," I said it and I meant it. Though deep down inside I was more than a little jealous of her happy family, because at the time mine was anything but.

"Thank you, Bulma,"

"And as for an idea for your next story. Give me a call. I might have something for you,"

"I think I'll do that," she said with a nod. "And there are some photos of the interior that you might wanna take a look at."

We shook hands and left her office. On the way out I said my goodbyes to Rebecca and gave her a number for someone that might be able to push her in the right direction. I then left the building, got in my jet and headed straight towards my next destination.

A little while later, I was following an employee as they led me past numerous garage doors. I had just landed at one of the company's many auto shops, specifically the one I was told had my jet in storage.

"Here we are, Ms Briefs. Room 25," the employee said, a young man with sandy-brown hair and green eyes, as we came to a stop. He pressed a button beside the large door and it rose to reveal what used to be my most prized vehicle, placed upon a raised platform in the middle of the room.

"Thanks," I said, studying the damage. The entire body was heavily dented and deeply scratched all over, the front end was completely ruined, and the windows were all shattered. Besides the black paint job, it was almost unrecognizable. Seeing it now, I realized how bad the crash truly was and how lucky I was to have survived it.

I shook my head before speaking again. "You have any problems bringing it in?"

"No ma'am, none. It was a pretty standard job with minimal cleanup," he answered professionally.

The young man waited by the door as I walked towards the vehicle with a heavy sigh. "I guess I better take a look inside then," and reluctantly did so. As I approached, I slowed my pace at the sight of the door.

It hung loosely from its hinges and had scorch marks on the handle and the edge where it opened.

I reached out a hand and dreamingly ran my fingers over the marks. I opened the door and inspected the locking gears, only to find that they, too, had been burned. The sight took me back to the assault on her jet.

The locks were fried. "This must be how the door managed to get pulled open so easily, and it may have had a part to play in the crash," I deduced, my mind now working in my favor. "But what could have caused this kind of damage that high in the air?" As I attempted to wrap my brain around the answer to that question, I pulled the door open the rest of the way and carefully climbed in.

Once inside, I sat down in the driver's seat. My hands caressed the controls before firmly grasping them. Being behind the controls of a vehicle, especially a jet, always had a way of making me feel alive, almost safe. After having spent the last two decades surrounded by beings capable of unimaginable feats, having had to bare witness to more destruction and mayhem than should be allowed in one lifetime, driving and piloting had become my refuge.

If I were being completely honest with myself, it was really because I saw it as one of the only things I still had absolute control over. It was cathartic to be back in my jet, even if it was immobile.

Almost forgetting the reason I was in the vehicle, I began looking around. The floor was still covered with broken glass, though it appeared the bulk of it had been cleaned up. I raised an eyebrow as I realized that the vehicle had been cleaned out.

Stopping my search, I called out to the man. "What happened to everything that was in here?"

"The contents of your vehicle have been collected and stored in the room's compartment," he told me.

I took one last glance around before climbing back out of the flying craft. "Show me where it is?" she said, smoothing my skirt out.

He motioned his hand towards the wall with a keypad to the left of the room. "It's right over here, ma'am," and he walked over while gesturing for me to follow.

I came to stand beside him once he stopped in front of the wall. He pressed in a password and the wall opened and a table slid out containing the former contents of my jet. One of my laptops, which was obviously broken, a pair of black shades, my purse and all of its contents, Trunks' safety seat, and my, surprisingly intact other cellphone. But no briefcase.

"I guess I didn't need to use my other phone," referring to the device in my pocket. I looked over to him. "Did you guys happen to see a briefcase?"

"A briefcase?" I nodded. "No ma'am, everything that was taken out of your jet is all that you see right here," he said, gesturing towards the table.

"How can you be so sure about that?"

"I personally handled the task of cleaning out the jet myself,"

I placed a hand on her hip. "And when did you do this?"

He appeared to think about it for a moment. "I was given the task maybe half an hour after I clocked in this morning,"

"Has anyone else touched anything?"

He shook his head. "No. It is custom made, so we were under orders to not disturb the vehicle too much, just in case you wanted to look at it yourself. It was actually untouched, up until this morning," he explained.

"Was there anything that might have gone unaccounted for at the crash sight?" I further inquired.

"That is a possibility, but I doubt it. We were very thorough with the cleanup. Everything that was in a fifty yard radius was checked, as per protocol,"

I sighed, reluctantly accepting his answer. "Alright. Have all of these things sent back to the compound, please," I calmly requested, turning to leave after he gave an obedient nod.

As I exited the entrance, my eyes glanced at the lock pad. I spotted a small black mark from the corner of my eye, but I chose to ignore it, brushing it off as nothing, and, instead, taking out my phone and preparing to call my cousin to deliver the bad news.

* * *

"There has to be something of use in here. She is the president, after all," I said as I rifled through the contents of the stolen briefcase. I sat on the floor and began removing things to get a better look at them.

I quickly read through numerous folders of papers, setting them aside one by one. I found a sheet of paper that read "Seasonal Products" at the top. There was a numbered list of thirty six items on it. I placed it with the rest, seeing no use for it. I reached back into the black case and pulled out a thin, silver device.

"What is this?" I wondered aloud, studying the device carefully. The device appeared to be some sort of digital pad. I found a button on the side and pressed it, causing the screen to immediately come to life and demanded a password. "Oh, don't make me laugh," I mocked before typing away on the digital keypad. The password came back incorrect twice, then I stopped to think for a moment. I scowled at the combination of numbers that came to mind, hoping that it would be wrong once more. I quickly typed it in, and the screen unlocked. "Yet another reason to despise that animal,"

My eyes scanned the screen, finding an application that said Schedule. "I'm certain I can find some use in this," I said, seeing that there were things that have been planned out for the next two months.

I closed the application and found another that saif Word Docs. I went to recently saved and found a file that said Master List, which was a rather long and detailed document.

"Interesting," I seriously said after reading through the document, then closed it down. I continued looking through the various applications. I came across one that said Gallery.

Curiosity won out before I could decide to overlook the rainbow image, and I opened the app.

There was only one file that said Camera, with 104 images. I pressed the file and immediately saw said images, most of which were of Bulma with various people, some without her, and some of her alone.

I selected the very first image. The picture showed the woman by herself, simply smiling at the camera, showing beautifully white teeth. I found myself turning up my lips in a small smile right back. I touched my fingers to the screen, gently touching where her cheek had been captured.

After a while, I swiped the screen and changed the picture. The image was of Bulma and her son. She was hugging him tightly around his tiny body with him sitting on her lap. He was laughing as she playfully kissed him on the cheek.

I felt the smile vanish from my features as I released a contemplative sigh, averting my eyes for a moment, before changing the image.

* * *

"Are you kidding me right now?" Van yelled through the phone. "Because this is really not funny!"

I was holding the device slightly away from my ear so as to prevent tinnitus. "Van, just calm down. I'll figure something out, alright?" I told her.

"You're damn right you'll figure something out!" She calmed herself with an aggravated sigh. "Bulma, you have picked the absolute worst time to start behaving like a normal person,"

I pressed my lips into a thin line. She was not wrong about what she said.

Sure, I was considered the normal one amongst my group of supernormal friends, but, to my family, I was the odd one out. I was very much not normal in comparison to Van. For reasons beyond my control, there were a few members of my extended family, Van's mother in particular, who usually looked upon me with such disdain that it almost hurt. Almost.

It bothered me to my core as a child, but nowadays, not so much.

I sighed through my nose. "I know,"

"Look, just go home and get some rest, or something, then I need you to figure out a way to rewrite that list. Got it?" she told me.

I nodded before remembering that she could not see me. "Yeah, I got it. I'll call you back once I come up with something. Bye," I hung up before she could say any more.

I leaned back in the seat with a sigh. I had been sitting in the driver's seat of my jet whilst speaking with my cousin, still parked outside of the auto shop.

I started up the engine and left.

A little while later, and I was now encapsulating my vehicle and walking into my family's home. I entered the hallway, walked into the kitchen and began looking for something to eat. In the last couple of days I really hadn't eaten much, just a little snack here and there, so I wanted to take full advantage of my free time and whip something up.

Maybe food would help me think.

I went to the fridge and saw containers filled with food, leftovers from what I could assume was last night's dinner.

This was an odd sight for me.

For the last five years, we hadn't really had to worry about there being too much food because Vegeta usually had the lion's share of our meals when he was around, and he was, ensuring there be nothing left to put away. This told me that I wasn't the only one who skipped dinner that night.

I shook my head as I grabbed a container filled with fettuccine. I closed the fridge, placed the food on the counter and grabbed a plate and fork. The pasta had shrimp and grape tomatoes mixed into it. The dish was one of my favorites. I put a generous amount on my plate and placed it in the microwave for a minute and a half before taking it back out and taking a seat at the island.

I took my first bite and hummed in delight at the flavor. "God, I needed this," I moaned through a mouth full of food, taking another bite.

"Get a hold of yourself, woman," a voice said across from me.

I looked up from my plate and swallowed heavily at the sight of the father of my child.

He was cringing at me. "Honestly, there is a child somewhere in this house," he said, referring to the sounds I had been involuntarily making as I ate my meal.

I lowered my fork but did not respond, I just continued to stare. We hadn't really spoken since the fight.

He raised a dark brow at me. "So, are you planning on eating everything, or is it safe for me to reach in?" he mocked, coming farther into the room, noticing the manner in which I was devouring my plate.

I glanced down at my food and back up at him. "Do you want some? There's still plenty left,"

"As long as it's alright with you," he said, being sardonically submissive.

I placed my utensil on the edge of the plate. "I'll just make you a plate," and I got up to do so, ignoring his tone.

I quietly went about my task, feeling his eyes following me around. Upon finishing, I turned back around, only to find that he had already taken the seat across from me and, as I suspected, was watching me. I wordlessly placed his food in front of him and went back to my own plate.

Vegeta began to shovel food into his mouth whilst still retaining some of his usual etiquette.

For the longest time we eat in silence, only the sound of our utensils repeatedly hitting our plates filled the silence.

It was me who broke the silence.

"Did you have dinner with my parents and Trunks last night?" I asked, without looking up from my plate, already knowing the answer.

"Why?" he simply countered.

"No reason, really. I was just curious, you know? Making conversation," I shrugged.

"No, I didn't," he answered. "What about you?"

"Me neither,"

He hesitated before asking a follow-up. "Why not?"

I licked my top lip before speaking. "I didn't have much of an appetite last night, or yesterday in general," I quietly said. "You?"

"Same," I heard him put his fork down. "Have you found anything new about the turbine?"

"I'm putting that on hold until I get everything else straightened out,"

"What else has happened?" he asked me.

I put my fork down and looked up at him, only to see him looking at me. I sighed. "Some less than desirable events have taken place as a direct consequence of my accident,"

"Like what?"

"My accident made the news yesterday, I lost a couple of important items in the crash, and..." I trailed off, thinking about my mental state. I did not want to give him a reason to think less of me.

"And what else?" he inquired.

"Huh?"

"You were about to say something else. What was it?" he pressed.

I pushed my plate to the side and leaned forward on my arms. "I guess now that Van knows, someone else will eventually find out, too," I said, solemnly. I looked him right in the eyes as I spoke. "Ever since the accident my head hasn't been...right,"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I've been having trouble remembering things like before. I can't even remember what I ate yesterday. I can't stay focused on one thing for too long, and I feel like I have narcolepsy," I bitterly explained. "I don't know what happened to my annual products list, so Van needs me to make another list, but I can't even begin to know what was even on it," I leaned my jaw onto my palm with a sad smile. "I feel so fucking useless right now."

"You could just be suffering from a concussion. Have you considered that as a possibility?" he deduced.

"Vegeta, I don't know!" I frustratedly ran my fingers through my hair. "And, on top of all of that bullshit, I still have the audacity to try going about my day as if none of it matters," I calmed myself with a deep sigh. "I have these huge gaps in my memory, and the only things that I could find that could possibly help fill those gaps..." I dug into my pocket and pulled something out and tossing it on the granite top. "...is this stupid flash drive that I got from someone."

He picks it and studies it curiously. "What's on it?"

"Just some photos of the crash sight. I was going to take a look at them later,"

"Do you believe your head to be clear enough to properly examine these photos?" he suddenly asks me.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine right now. Why?"

"Go do it, right now," he told me. "If you put this off until later you may never get this done. We both know how much of a procrastinator you can be," he handed me back the tiny device.

I took it. "You have a point there," I agreed, standing up.

"Of course I do,"

I came to stand beside him where he was still sitting. "Come with me,"

He looked over at me. "Why?"

"You're a bit more observant than I am. Maybe you'll see something that I can't," I suggested.

He stared me down for a moment, probably trying to figure out if that was the real reason, before standing up. "Fine,"

I suppressed a smirk as I led us out of the kitchen.

A minute or so later, I was sitting in front of the computer in my lab with him standing beside me with his arms crossed over his chest.

I plugged the drive into my computer and opened the files. I quickly located the photos and displayed them all across the screen. I expanded the first one. It was wide shot of my jet and the surrounding area. Nothing to really see. My eyes scanned the photos and found one that was taken of the door. I recalled the condition of the door I saw earlier.

"Vegeta, do you see these scorch marks?"

"Yes. What about them?"

"What do you think could've caused something like that?"

"It could have happened in the crash," he suggested.

"I don't think so," I enhanced the image and zoomed in on the particular spot. "When I saw my jet earlier these marks were only on the door. I took a closer look and I could see that the door itself had been burned from the inside out. Nothing else,"

"It sounds as if you're suspecting foul play,"

"I don't want to, but it's starting to look more and more like a possibility," I said, knowing that it was. I changed the image to one of those that were taken of the inside of the jet, just as Tatsuki said to do earlier. Everything was a mess. Broken glass all over the place, all of my belongings strewn about. Amongst was possessions is none other than her briefcase. "So it was still in the jet,"

"What?"

"My briefcase was still inside after I crashed, but the guy at the auto shop said he didn't see it. But there it is, right there on the floor," I zoomed in on the object.

He looks down at me. "So what does this mean?"

I looked up at him. "It means that someone may have taken it out somewhere between this photo being taken and when it was cleaned out this morning,"

"That's a well over twenty-four hour gap. That is a mighty large window of time," he reminded me.

"I know," I murmured, turning back to the screen. "But I have to figure this out," I stared intently at the image. There was something telling me that if I could find out what happened to my briefcase, then maybe I'll be a bit closer to solving this dark mystery hanging over my head.

"Bulma,"

"Yeah?" I said, not looking at him.

"Is there more to this that I should know about?"

I tensed up. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to just say yes, but something in my mind was saying otherwise. It felt as if the second I told someone that something terrible would happen. It might have just been a feeling, but I refused to take that chance.

"No," I answered blankly.

I could feel his suspicious eyes on me, trying to see through the facade. But before he could press me further, my cellphone rang.

I took it out and read the screen, and I shut my eyes at the bad timing. I heard him scoff.

"I guess you better take that. Don't want to keep that miserable fuck waiting, now would you?" he spat before leaving the lab without another word.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in utter frustration before answering the call. "Hi Yamcha,"


	11. Give Me Love Like Her

**Although I am using canonical events and time periods to frame my story, this is, in fact, an AU. Just try to remember that as we move forward from now. Hint. Enjoy!**

 **"** _ **You'll never be able to find yourself if you're lost in someone else.**_ **" - Colleen Hoover**

"Hey Bulma," Yamcha replied over the phone.

"What is it, Yamcha?" I said, relieved that the sudden interruption stopped the Vegeta's questioning, but also frustrated at the gap that Yamcha's presence was helping to widen between me and my son's father.

"Well, you never got back to me, so I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright. If _you_ were alright," I could hear a hint of worry in his tone.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"

"When you left in such a hurry earlier, I asked your mom if there was something wrong. She told me that you were in an acci-"

I yanked the phone away from my ear in anger. "For fucks sake, Mom!" I growled, lowly, through my teeth. Apparently the woman felt it somehow necessary to let every single person that came by in on the fact that I was in an accident, as if that were the sole answer to all of my current problems.

"Bulma? You still there?"

I covered my left eye with my left palm as my elbow sat atop my desk. I placed the phone back to my ear. "Yeah, I'm still here," though I was definitely contemplating hanging up.

"I'm sorry, B. Had I known what happened to you I would have never just shown up like this," he apologized.

I dropped my hand and my face softened at his words. "Don't say that,"

"It's true. You already told me that you had things to take care of today. You don't need me adding more to your plate,"

"No, I'm glad you showed up," I said, softly and sincerely.

"Are you sure?" he timidly asked.

"Absolutely. You know that,"

"And you're okay?"

"This is why I didn't wanna say anything about it, because I didn't want you to worry. But I'm fine, really. It is not that big of a deal, I...I assure you," I hesitated with that last part, not entirely sure of that.

I heard him sigh.

"Look, there are still some things that I need to put my focus towards today, but we'll try to get together tomorrow, like I promised you. That is, if you still want to," I profferd. Even though he was intruding at a very sensitive point, I didn't want him to feel bad about it.

"Of course I do!"

My lips formed a small smile at his eagerness. "Alright then, I'll call you tomorrow,"

"Wait! It's like two in the afternoon. What am I supposed to do until tomorrow?" he asked me.

"What?" I laughed in confusion. "You're in West City! Go to a party. Go dancing. Go see a show. Anything! Just take your country ass somewhere and have fun, Bandit!" I said, speaking very obviously, before hanging up on him. I humorously shook my head before going back to looking at the image on the screen.

As I stared at my missing property, there was a feeling in my gut that was saying that I was no closer to solving this mystery than I was an hour ago. And without the assistance of my memories, I was just finding myself running full speed towards a dead-end.

I went back to the image of the burned door and just stared closely at it.

 _What is going on around here that I'm not able to see_?

* * *

I stood atop a tall brick wall, near the edge of the city, that was shielding four warehouses that were lined up on the other side. "This appears to be the right location," I said, reading the four digit numbers that were on each of the large buildings. I looked down at the list on the tablet. "Warehouse 3 should do nicely for what I need,"

I waited for the guardsmen who were watching the area, and whom of which wrre armed, to do their routine parameter sweep before making my move. As one guard left his post, I pulled up the black mask around my neck and quickly stuffed the tablet into the sling bag on my back.

I dropped ten feet down to the ground, landing effortlessly on my feet. Upon hitting the ground, I immediately took off in a sprint. I reached the wall of the fourth building and quickly made the climb to the roof, right before another guard came to replace the other. I wasted absolutely no time in running off the side, making the jump to the third building.

I found a skylight in the center of the roof. "I guess I found my entrance," I said evenly, the hurried movements not affecting me in the slightest. This planet was changing me. I opened the skylight. "Time to do a little browsing," and I jumped inside.

* * *

A little while later, as I was leaving my lab and was headed back upstairs, I found myself taking a slow stroll throughout the compound, taking in the beauty of my home.

My feet carried me all the way to the doors of my mother's garden. I stopped and stared inside through the glass. Inside I could see Mom tending to her flowers, as per usual.

My heart fluttered with joy at the sight of Trunks helping his grandmother. His face was adorably serious as he dug a hole into the soil, dirt covering his overalls and tiny hands. Once the hole was deep enough, he stood up and dusted off his hands before grabbing a small plant. He removed the plant from its plastic pot and placed it into the hole, giving it a new home amongst the others.

The entire scene was truly precious.

Just the sight of my child made me happy, but I couldn't help sabotaging my mood by thinking about how I had been so caught up with work and the mystery behind the accident that I hadn't really seen much of him the last twenty four hours. Even the tiny bit of time I saw him yesterday got cut short because of the interview with Shion Adair and, afterwards, I passed out before I had the chance to spend any time with him or Gohan.

But that was yesterday. Today didn't have to be the same way.

I walked toward the doors and they slid open. As I got nearer to where my mother and son were, a third person slowly came into view. Vegeta was sitting indian-style on the grass with his arms crossed over his chest, calmly watching the duo at work.

He turned his dark eyes turn on me as I approached. I made eye contact, but did not slow my pace toward my son. When I turned away I could still feel his gaze upon me.

"Well, well. Who is this handsome young man you have helping you out, Mom?" I playfully said as I stood behind them. They turned around to face me. "And have you seen my Trunks anywhere?" I pretended to look around for my son who was kneeling five feet away in front of me.

He looked up at me with eyes similar to my own, maybe a shade of blue lighter. "I'm right here, Momma!" the tiny boy announced, getting up from the ground.

I walked closer to him. "Trunks, is that really you under all that dirt?" I used my hands to wipe at his cheeks. "It really is you!" I happily scooped him into my arms, causing him to squeal in surprise, ignoring the dirt getting on my shirt.

I positioned him on my hip as he hugged me tightly around the neck, snuggling into my shoulder, before pulling away to look at me with confused blue eyes. "Momma, why're you not at work?"

"Because Momma wanted to see her little man before she has to go again, that's why," I said, poking him in the stomach.

"What about Daddy?"

"What do you mean? What about him?"

"Are you here to see him, too?"

I shook my head. "No. I saw your Daddy earlier, so I wanted to come see you." I could see how his little face was scrunching up in thought. "Why?"

He leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I think Daddy's grumpy about something,"

Dammit. He definitely had his father's perception, I'll give him that. I chanced a look over at the man in question, who was still watching us. "I'll let you in on a little secret, kid. Your daddy is always grumpy about something," I told him. "But I get what you're trying to say,"

"Maybe if you talked to him it would make him feel better," he adorably suggested.

I groaned at the fact that whenever he did something like that I almost always bent to his will. But I was also groaning over the fact that he might actually be right about that.

"Momma, I need to finish putting these plants into the ground," he told me.

"Alright, alright, I get it. I know when I'm getting the brush-off," I placed him back on his feet. "I love you, baby,"

"I love you, too, Momma," he said back as he returned to gardening.

I finally looked down at my blouse and could see all of the smudges of dirt around it. I smiled regardless. "Worth it," I murmured to myself, glad to have actually had a conversation with my son, despite the mess. I turned around to head to my bedroom for a quick change of clothes, when I remembered the Saiyan sitting a few feet away, who was no longer watching me.

I sighed. I guess now was a better time than any, I told myself. I walked over to him. "Vegeta,"

He was staring at our son across the way. "What?" he gruffly responded.

"Can we talk?"

He scoffed. "Is the weakling busy or something?" he bit.

I rolled my eyes and looked away. The things I did to see my son happy.

I bit my cheek to keep my tone in check. "Look, I feel like there are some things we need to talk about. If you wish to do so, I'll be upstairs changing before I have to go again. If not, that's more than fine by me," I leaned in close to him. "But don't say that I'm the one who's not trying,"

I walked away without looking back once.

I entered my room and immediately shed my blouse, leaving me in a lacey, black bra. I kicked off my heels, seeing as they probably won't match anymore, and went into the closet.

I heard the door open and close. "Here we go," I murmured as I grabbed a forest green blouse and walked back out of the closet.

* * *

"What could we possibly have to talk about?" I asked, somewhat belligerently, upon entering the room.

She walked out of the closet with a green shirt and gave me an incredulous look. "Are you serious? We both know that you've been moping around since yesterday morning, so cut the crap," she said, laying her clothing on the bed.

"I've done no such thing," I denied, not missing the fact that she was standing before me half dressed.

She scoffed while placing a hand on her bare waist. "Oh, please. You've been moping so much that Trunks even noticed it,"

"What does he know," I murmured, looking away for a moment then looked back to her. "Woman, what do you want?"

She sighed deeply and her face softened a bit before she spoke. "I wanted to apologize,"

An eyebrow rose in confusion. "For what reason?" I asked, as if I didn't already know.

"I think you know what the reason is,"

"I know of the many other reasons you would probably need to apologize for, but you have blatantly shown me that I shall receive no such thing. Please, do enlighten me on this recent attack on my person," I said, still feigning ignorance.

One of the few things I refused to do around her back then was allow a moment to pass for her to admit her own wrongdoings, for her to show some humility for once. I was not so different from her, but at the very least I could admit when I was wrong. Sometimes. And, around this time, I hadn't done half as much wrong toward her as she had done towards me. In my own personal opinion.

She scratched at the back of her head. "I'm sorry that I snapped at you yesterday," she began. "I kind of went through something traumatic, but that does not give me permission to do what I did." I could tell that she was being sincere. "You were there when I woke up, so you got to see what fear and anger looked like coming from me, and I didn't even like what I saw,"

I just stared at her, my hardened expression cracking beneath the weight of her confession. I was expecting her to not acknowledge her own outburst, not fully at least. I sure wouldn't have. But, between the two of us, she was always the most likely to set her pride aside, especially in recent times. It was things like this that made her better than myself. I was proud to have witnessed that slow development, though it would be years later that I would see a situation relevant to tell her so.

But that didn't mean I didn't still have a question for her.

I took a few steps closer and stopped. "So, do you still mean what you said?" I asked her, my voice blank as I sternly stared her down.

Her blue eyes were incredibly apologetic and defensive at the same time, as if she wasn't sure how to feel in my presence. At war with herself. She solemnly shook her head. "No. No, I don't," she quietly confessed. "But you haven't given me much reason to think otherwise,"

She wasn't wrong. Whenever the opportunity arrived for us to have this discussion, it was I who floundered at the topic, I who pulled away. I did the exact same thing the day before. I alone could have prevented this turbulence we were going through, if only I had told the truth; no, she meant more than her usefullness. I wasn't entirely sure of what at that moment, but it was a lot. I could have just told her that. Anything besides what I allowed to slip from my lips. I only managed to make an already fragile situation worse, but here she was apologizing to me.

I looked down at her bandaged left arm. She had been suffering both physically and mentally, but she was so much like myself that she would rather suffer in silence than make herself look weak in front those who relied on her to be strong. That was one of those things that never changed about her.

I stepped closer until I was less than a foot away. "You're right, I haven't. But that does not make it so,"

"That may be true, but try to imagine the situation reversed. How would you feel?" she asked, seriously wondering.

The answer to her question could only be purely visceral, so I gave an answer that reflected my feelings. "I honestly don't know," this was the only way I could describe what was going on with me. "How do you feel about...all of this?"

"Vegeta, I care about you, and I don't want this to be one-sided. But there is a fear that comes from me not knowing where you stand in all of this," she openly explained.

My brow furrowed in concentration. "Who's to say that I don't care?"

She sighed. "I know that you care, to an extent I do. But you have to understand why this isn't enough for me right now. I have some serious issues, most of which are involving you, that I am desperately trying to sort out at the moment, and this..." she gestured between us. "...is not helping me do that. My head is so messed up that I think I might be going insane,"

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I want you tell me that you are okay with us...taking a break,"

My eyebrow rose in confusion. "Taking a break from what?"

"From us. From this...relationship that we have called ourselves having." I was taken aback by her sudden request. "We need to officially put the intimate part of our relationship on hold, just for the time being. At least until we can come back to it with a clear head, and try to talk about putting some kind of a label on it. Whether it be lovers, co-parents, or simply friends," she delicately put.

She said it. I never truly thought that moment would come, even though I had been dreading it for a while. She didn't want to be with me, but only at the moment she said. My chest was tightening with emotion, though, still, I did understand her reason behind feeling the need to make the decision. I had, somewhat, feared that with all of the time I spent away and the way I kept her firmly at arms length, emotionally, that she would eventually reach her limit of patience for my actions, but it hadn't made me stop. I was purposely sabotaging my own journey toward happiness.

I cleared my throat. "If that's what you want, then it's fine by me," I reluctantly agreed, keeping my voice steady to hide the pain in my chest.

"It is," she stated, leaning in toward me. "Thank you," and she placed a chaste kiss to my lips. Before she could pull away, I placed a firm hand to her nape and returned the kiss with fervor.

I released her a minute later, leaving her breathless. "You're welcome," I said with the faintest hint of sorrow in my tone. I reached down behind her and picked up the forgotten blouse, proceeding to help her slide it onto her arms. Her being half dressed was not helping anything. She was still staring up at me as I pulled the garment closed and began buttoning it from the bottom to the top. "So, what should we do in the meantime?"

"Do what we have failed at doing for the last five years; try to coexist without ruining it with sex," she said, ironically staring at me with such vulgarity that my fingers halted a few buttons from the top.

I finished my task, going all the way to the very last button at her throat, knowing how she preferred to wear certain things. "I can do that,"

She smiled at me before wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head on my shoulder. I timidly placed a hand to the back of her head and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, returning the embrace the best I could.

Silence enveloped the room as we held each other.

But, much to my annoyance, her damned phone rang, disrupting our newfound peace. I looked up and shook my head with a sigh as she pulled away from the embrace to grab the device from her pocket.

"It's Van," she groaned, answering the call. "Hello?" she greeted. "No, I went by the auto shop but it wasn't there," she explained. "What do you mean?" I looked at her as she listened to her relative. "What?! When?" I raised an eyebrow at her sudden exclamation. "Around eleven a.m.? This happened in broad daylight?" I could hear the muffled sounds coming from the phone. "I don't know, but I'll be there in a few. See you then," and she hung up.

"What was that about?" I asked, curious to know the other side of the conversation that just took place.

She looked up at me with a look of anger and disbelief. "One our warehouses was robbed earlier today,"

"Do they have any idea who could have done it?"

"That's what I'm about to find out," she put on her heels and headed towards the door. She stopped and looked back at me. "Do you mind tagging along? I might need your help with this one,"

I gave a shrug. "Sure," I answered, feigning nonchalance at her offer.

* * *

A little later and we walked into my downtown office, where my cousin was situated in front of my computer and had been waiting for me.

"So what do we know about this?" I inquired, immediately switching on my business persona, walking over to stand behind the woman at my computer and looking down over her shoulder at the screen. Vegeta chose to lean against the wall near the door, keeping his distance from the irritable woman.

"That it is worse than we originally thought," Van said, turning the chair to look up at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I've just learned that the warehouse in Parsley City wasn't the only one,"

"How many others?"

Van began raising a finger for each one she named. "One in Parsley City. One in Bridgetown. Two in Gingertown. One in Orange Star City, and two in my district. Seven in all. But get this, they were all broken in to between two a.m. and twelve p.m. today,"

"Seven heavily guarded warehouses were all burglarized in a span of ten hours?" I said in bewilderment. "Are you sure?"

"The security footage confirms it," Van leaned back in the seat. "And if what I saw was correct, it looked like it was one person, and it may have been the same one person at each location,"

I was now completely dumbfounded. "You're telling me that the same person managed to break into each warehouse, rob them, go all the way to another one, which has at least fifty to a hundred miles between them all, and do the same thing?"

Van nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying,"

"That's seven warehouses in ten hours," I looked over at Vegeta. "How is that even possible?"

"Are you sure that it was the same person?" he asked, directing his question towards Van.

"Very sure," she answered.

"What was taken?" I asked.

"We don't know yet. Inventory is still being taken at all locations. Hopefully it wasn't anything important,"

I stared at the report on the screen, trying to wrap my scattered mind around this, when I noticed something. "Van, is this right?" I asked, pointing at the words on the screen.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, our warehouses are all clustered together in different regions. There are four to five at each location. How do we know that only seven were burglarized?"

"We know because the security systems had been tampered with at only those buildings," she explained, very plainly.

"This is strange," I murmured.

"What're you getting at?"

"Van, the regions that you named have a combined total of twenty-four buildings in all. But only seven of them got hit? Out of a possible twenty-four? Are you two really not seeing something wrong with that?" I stated my curiosity.

"Maybe it's a coincidence. Maybe they got lucky. Let's count our blessings that it wasn't anymore than seven," she suggested.

"This report says that building one was hit in Parsley City, but building three was the only one hit in Bridgetown. The pattern continues out of order like this throughout each. To randomly choose which warehouse to break into and successfully find what you're looking for is a thousand to one. No one's that lucky," I skillfully deduced, feeling the gears spinning in my head again. "Seven out of twenty-four, and the number order is off? Sorry, but I don't see a coincidence in that,"

"Bulma, that sounds like a really good theory, but-"

"No, she's right. It's too precise, too clean to be anything less than calculated," Vegeta interjected.

"This person had to have known exactly what they were looking for and know exactly where to find it. But how?" My mind began to race with a possibility of how that may be. I had several theories, but only one stood out. "Oh no," I groaned, covering my eyes with my hand.

Vegeta pushed off the wall and came to stand in front of the desk that the two of us were on the opposite side of. "What is it?"

"I think I know how this may have happened," I dropped my hand and looked down at my cousin. "Did you bring your flashdrive with you?"

Van picked up her briefcase that was sitting on the floor beside the chair. She dug inside and pulled out the device and handed it to me. I plugged it into my computer and found a file that said Warehouse ML. I opened the file and turned the screen enough for Vegeta to see it as well.

"What is this?" he asked.

I straightened back up and crossed an arm over my stomach and leaned my head onto the other hand. "There are very few people who know what is being held in which warehouse; myself, Van, my father, the distributors that send it and the employees that sort it once it's there. Every year, an annual list is comprised of our work throughout it, this includes the warehouses," I explained. "The Warehouse Master List is comprised of very detailed profiles of each building and its contents. Only Van and myself have access to this list, in order to edit it if need be. Van has hers right here, and I have mine on my flashdrive at home. But I also have a copy of it on my tablet, which was in my briefcase..."

"Which is missing," Vegeta finished my thought. "Still think it was a coincidence, Van?" he mockingly asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, who asked you anyway?"

He gestured his head towards me. "She did,"

"Why don't just shut up for once!" she exclaimed, standing up.

"Why don't you try not being such a belligerent brat for once," he calmly countered.

"Fuck you, you freeloading prick!"

"You wish, you audacious wench,"

I sighed, quickly becoming frustrated with their exchange of barbs.

"No, I think I'll pass. My men have to be at least above average height,"

"What men?" he smirked, clearly on the verge of laughter.

"You spiky-haired midget!" Van growled, clearly allowing him to get to her.

"Alright you two, that's enough! Save it for the honeymoon," I finally interjected. They did this almost every single time they were in the same room together. In the beginning, Van usually came out the victor of the verbal battles, but once she pushed him a bit too far, he began giving her back what she was dishing and more. It annoyed me to no end, so I just settled on keeping them away from each other.

"Eww, no," Van spat.

His face scrunched up in disgust. "Don't even joke like that,"

"Well then, shut up,"


	12. Forever Unstoppable

**" _But who can remember pain once it's over? All that ever remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind._ " - Margaret Atwood**

Back in the indoor garden at the compound, I had come back and reclaimed my previous spot on the grass. The boy had been taken to get cleaned up and was now upstairs, playing in his bedroom. That left no one but myself and the boy's grandmother.

The woman was sitting at a patio set a few feet away from where I was sitting, admiring her garden as she sipped on a cup of tea.

We had been sitting in silence, nothing but the serene sounds of nature surrounding us. But, suddenly, the woman decided to break that silence.

"So," she began, placing her ceramic cup on the small table. "You and Bulma were gone for quite some time. Did you two manage to work everything out?"

I looked over at her with a questioning look. "There was an emergency at work and she asked me to come along for assistance, but, somehow, I feel as though that is not what you are referring to,"

"Oh, well that was nice of you. But I was referring to the fact that you left right after she did, and she's now wearing a different blouse than before," she said, playfully and suggestively.

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance, and slight embarrassment, at her audaciousness. "Not that it's any of your business, but she told me to meet her upstairs to talk," I angrily explained, my cheeks feeling warm. "And before you ask, the only reason we went up there in the first place was because she needed to change after picking up the boy, whom of which got her shirt a bit dirty,"

"Relax Vegeta, I was only teasing," she smiled, leaning back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. "I can always tell when my girls are in a bad mood, especially Bulma. So, what did you two talk about?"

"Nothing," I quickly lied. The conversation that took place was not one I wished to revisit.

"But you said that you upstairs to talk. It must have been something if you needed privacy, right?" she continued to pry.

"Privacy. Something that is surely lacking around this madhouse," I said, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. "And I'm not telling you a thing. You want to gossip, go talk to that daughter of yours,"

Her face softened, for some inexplicable reason, at my reluctance. "Come on now, you can tell me,"

"No, and that's final, woman!" I sheepishly exclaimed.

She raised her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, I can take a hint. But when you feel as though you need someone to talk to about this, I'll be here for you," she sincerely offered. "I know how complicated loving someone like that can get. Trust me,"

I raised an eyebrow at this. "What do you mean?"

"Loving someone like Bulma. More specifically her father," she clarified. "I know what it feels like," I was about to argue that I simply cared for the mother of my child, but she continued. "No one has ever truly noticed this, but, Bulma and her father, believe it or not, are two very stoic individuals,"

To anyone else that might have sounded like the most obsurd way to describe the upbeat father-daughter duo, but I was just relieved that someone else actually saw the woman the same way I did.

"Boxa was born into a lower-class family. Nothing even remotely close to what he has today. Growing up, and as the eldest of only two sons, Boxa's father desperately wanted him to make something of himself, so much so that he put all of his energy into making sure that his son would become a diligent professional. And that's what he became because..."

"Because the pressure was put on him to do something great with his family's name," I finished her thought.

She nodded. "Yes. After his mother passed, his father became even more strict with him, all the while giving his younger brother the freedom to live as he pleased. Boxa said that their father saw no potential in his brother, so he never wasted his time with him,"

I thought about how my father had treated myself and Tarble in a similar fashion. Very early on in life I decided that I wanted to be exactly like my father, a ruthless man who ruled with an iron fist over his subordinates, so the King did everything in his power to mold me in his image. Tarble, on the other hand, was more like our mother, an oddly a kind-hearted soul amongst a horde of heathens. But unlike Tarble she was fierce when she had to be. Our father deemed him too soft to be a ruler, so eight months before the destruction of our planet, he stripped him of his rights to the throne and banished him at the age of three. The same age as Trunks was at the time this was all happening.

"His father made sure that all he had time for was studying and work." She continued. "Boxa graduated high school at the age of sixteen and was working as an intern by seventeen at an engineering branch of the Red Ribbon Army, which is where he met Dr. Gero," I was actually shocked to hear that bit of info. "Even after he finally got from under his father's thrall by attending a grad school over seas, he still saw that it didn't matter, because the damage was done. He got stuck in his father's ways,"

"Dr Briefs worked under Gero?" I asked, so many questions swimming around in my head.

She shook her head from side to side. "No. Gero was known for never taking on interns, never wanting to get distracted from his work. Boxa worked under one of his colleagues, Dr Flappe,"

"That figures," I muttered under my breath.

"Two years after receiving his Ph.D in technology and his doctorate in science, Boxa had finally put the finishing touches on the original version of the Dino Capsules we use today. He took out a loan so that he could get more of them manufactured and sold them from a kiosk stand, and eight months later they were in high demand," she looked down at the cup on the table. "Ironically enough, his father passed only a couple of months before Boxa was able to buy his first capsule factory and later expand to different locations,"

"The man spent his entire life grooming his son for greatness, only to not live long enough to actually see his work come to fruition," I wondered aloud. "That is truly depressing," I said without a hint of humor.

She shrugged one shoulder. "It's sad, but very true."

"When did you come into his life?" I asked, curious to know more.

"Well, I met Boxa during my junior year in college. While I always found solace in nature, he was a man who found peace surrounded by technology. I loved to stop and smell the roses, while he loved finding reason as to how it manages to create such a pleasant aroma," she said with a longing smile. "Despite our obvious differences, I fell for him. And years later, we had two beautiful girls to help occupy our time,"

She looked off thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "As a consequence to how Boxa's father treated him, Boxa unintentionally became exactly the kind of parent he never wanted to be, but a bit milder," she sighed, leaning her elbow onto the table and rested her jaw on her fist. "When Tights was ten years old and Bulma was five, he began trying to get them interested in his line of work. He brought them along to his lab and made them study his work. He would make them come up with a project and, if he deemed it good enough, they had to learn how to build it. He made them enter competition after competition, even if they didn't want to."

She cleared her throat. "After nearly two years of this, he decided that he should focus on just Bulma," she gave a sad smile. "As you know by now, Tights is more of a nature girl like me. Bulma, on the other hand, had taken a liking to everything he showed her. She had a real talent for it. He would go on to spend the next nine years nurturing that talent on an extreme level, with a very tight leash," she looked over at me. "Have you ever heard someone refer to her as The Golden Child?"

"I've heard her cousin call her by that name a few times over the years. Why?"

"Because it wasn't just Vanessa who used to call her that. Everything that she did throughout grade school and high school, she excelled in it. Literally everything. The girl hadn't made so much as an A minus since first grade," she proudly recalled. "But that placed her atop a pedestal she couldn't help living up to. Thanks to her father, not only grooming her to be successful, but also a die-hard perfectionist. It was only after she graduated high school at the age of fourteen did she finally convince him to give her a little more freedom before she went off to college. She would spend the next couple of years travelling, which is how she met young Goku,"

"I don't understand this at all," I suddenly said. "He's such a cheerful man, and the two of them seem to have a pretty stable relationship. I can't imagine him being that way,"

"Oh, make no mistake, he was a very loving father to our girls. He only wanted to know that one of them would succeed him when the time came," she quickly clarified. "It's just, when you place expectations on a young child, it places pressure on them. The pressure to live up to those expectations. And, as seen with Bulma, it can easily be carried into adulthood," she explained, expertly. "She's always felt as if she had to fight for her place in our family, even if we told her otherwise,"

"From my perspective, I say she's achieved more than even she thought possible," I shrugged. "For Other World's sake, the woman created a time machine and met her son before he was even born,"

"That's from the outside looking in. The mind of a perfectionist is much more complicated than either of us could possibly imagine," she told me. "You see Vegeta, at its root, perfectionism isn't really about a deep love of being meticulous. It's about fear. Fear of making a mistake. Fear of disappointing others. Fear of failure. Fear of success,"

I looked down at the grass as I mulled over this new information. I thought back to a couple of days prior, on the day of her accident. We were having lunch with the boy at a restaurant downtown. We had a small disagreement involving our child.

 _"I don't understand why you insist on having him sit in one of those things," I said, referring to the booster seat she just requested for the boy._

 _She sighed. "We've been over this already. He's just a child, Vegeta, and children need things like that to help them," she explained._

 _I gave an unconvinced face. "Help him how?"_

 _She sent the look right back. "Seriously?" she deadpanned. She picked the boy up from her lap and placed him in the seat between the two of us, and the only thing that was still visible was the top of his head._

 _"He can stand up to eat," I suggested, noting how small the boy was._

 _"That's definitely not happening," she shot down, immediately, before placing the boy back on her lap._

 _"Even still, his motor skills are up to that of someone three times his age,"_

 _"And I don't doubt that,"_

 _"So why the need for that ridiculous cup?"_

 _She gave an incredulous look. "His motor skills have nothing to do with the fact that he is prone to spilling things,"_

 _"He wouldn't be spilling things if he had more practice drinking from a real cup," I said, dismissively._

 _The waiter came with the booster seat and she placed the boy on it. She thanked the server before he left again and began securing the boy to the seat. "I know that you believe him to be above all of this because of your half of his DNA, and in some ways he is. But he is still just a child. I don't want him to feel like he has to grow up so fast, because we both know what it's like to have pressure placed on us at a young age," she lamented. She finished strapping him in and settled in her seat before turning to look at me. "Can you honestly say that you want him to grow up the same way you did?"_

The question had taken me off guard, and I didn't even bother to ask about what she meant by having pressure on herself at a young age. One could easily guess that the woman had to have been held to certain expectations, simply due to who her father was. But now a lot of things were beginning to make more sense in terms of how she lived her life, and how she chose to raise her children.

Two broken individuals, ruled by the ugliness of their past, raising a child together. A more cruel joke had never been told.

I was taken out of my thoughts by a hand on my shoulder. I looked back up to see that the woman was now standing beside me.

She smiled down at me. "Like I said, if you feel like you want someone to talk to, I'll be here to listen,"

I gave her a silent nod and watched as she retreated beyond the bushes of flowers to continue tending to her garden.

I stood up and went in the same direction she'd just disappeared in. I quickly located her and found that she was trimming a tall shrub.

"That was fast," she said without looking at me. "I didn't think that you would come around quite this soon,"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring her assumption, and they landed on the plot of dirt my son was working in earlier. "What is this?"

She stopped what she was doing to turn around and see what I was referring to. "Oh, that's just one of the new plots that Trunks is helping me fill,"

"With what?"

"Tomatoes, specifically Cherry Tomatoes,"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why continue using your land for this? Don't you have enough of this stuff sprouting around the place?" I asked her, genuinely confused. For as long as I had known her, I had seen her put as much effort into her garden as Bulma had put into one of her inventions, and it confused me to no end.

She smiled brightly at me. "I suppose I enjoy creating life, watching it grow and find purpose. The way I see it, it's not that much different than giving birth,"

"Your daughter might disagree with you on that," I deadpanned, thinking of the time she told me that actually giving birth was the most difficult thing she had experienced in her life.

"She might. But, just like a fetus, a seed needs to be properly nurtured so that it may one day emerge from Mother Nature's womb into something beautiful," she looked at me. "Besides my wonderful grandson, have you ever created something?"

"Creating things was never in the job description. My only priority was to learn how to destroy, and to destroy completely,"

She went over and picked up a small shovel and offered it to me. "Well, maybe it's time for a change,"

I raised an eyebrow, staring at the tool. "What do you mean?"

"If you can learn how to destroy, then you can also learn how to create," she placed the tool in my hand. "You think you're up to helping me with the rest of these plants?"

"If a child is capable of the task, then I am more than capable," I scoffed. "But what makes you think I want to help you?"

She shrugged. "You're not doing anything else at the moment, so why not?"

"So I should spend my free time playing in dirt?"

"It can be very therapeutic," she added. "What if I made this a bit more interesting for you?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Like how?"

"After you're done helping me plant the rest of these," she gestured to the stack of tiny potted plants. "I'll let you choose one to take care of,"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"To see if you can make it grow, that is if you even know how," she said, giving an underhanded insult.

I caught her insult. "Of course I know how. There's nothing to doing something as trivial as gardening," he snapped a bit, slightly offended.

"Prove it," she challenged, moving aside for me.

"Fine, I will," I accepted, stepping past her and onto the plot. I stared down at the dirt with the shovel in my hand, not entirely sure of where to start or how.

She suddenly came to stand beside me and pointed to where there were already some plants in the ground. "You can pick up where Trunks left off," and I grumpily went to work digging. "Be sure that the hole is only about eight inches deep and at least a foot away from each other,"

"I knew that!" I told her, discreetly refilling the hole that's at least a foot and a half deep.

"Alright then, I'll check on you in a few minutes,"

After I finished with the hole, I grabbed one of the plants. I saw a small pile of empty plastic pots and assumed that I had to remove it. I took the plant and placed it in the hole. I began burying it, trying to make it look similar to the ones beside it. Once I was done with that, I looked around at the large, mostly empty plot.

I shook my head. What had I gotten myself into? "I really should have just left when I had the chance,"

* * *

A couple of hours later, I was sitting at the computer in my lab at home. My eyes were carefully pouring over the e-mail that was sent to me a little while ago. It was the inventory report for the burglarized warehouses, which were now on mt ever-growing to-do list of things to be taken care of, along with the other warehouse locations. But, unlike everything else I had to do, I had been thinking of a possible solution to this sort of problem for a while now.

As I finished reading over the report, for the third time, my eyes narrowed at what I was now seeing. "What the fuck is going on here?" I said to myself, thoughts running wild. Every item on that list was of little value in comparison to what could have been taken, and easily replaceable. Just a bunch of tools and small parts. Plus, if that person was looking to sell it, they didn't get nearly enough to make a profit worthy of the break in. So I didn't get it. What was the plan for all of this?

I leaned back in the leather chair. "I should really take a look at the security footage Van sent me. Maybe I'll see something that she didn't," I told myself as I went to open the video file of the very first break in.

The video began in the currently unoccupied space within the warehouse. It appeared as if the guards were in the middle of changing shifts. A perfect opportunity. Suddenly, someone could be seen climbing down the wall to the left, dressed in all black with a cap over their hair and a mask over their mouth. The person, gender unidentifiable due to their attire, went over to one of the containers, which was heavily locked, and attempted to open it.

"So this person obviously made it past the guards and entered through the skylight, probably knowing that it wasn't guarded, but they didn't expect the containers to be locked." This was an interesting observation I made, so I took a mental note of it.

The person tried to pull it open a few times, but it wouldn't budge for them, so they stopped and began looking around. They halted when they spotted something and then went over to it.

"That must have been the moment they found the main security system," I murmured, remembering that the report said that it had been tampered with.

A moment later, all of the containers automatically opened up, and the person came back into view. They immediately went inside of one before exiting a few moments later, stuffing their find into their sling bag. The thief went back off screen and the containers all closed. The thief came back into view and then climbed back up to where they must have came in. The video ended with that.

"How did they do that?" I said in astonishment. That person had not only managed to open the security system, but also close it. The system was designed to shut down if ever someone attemped to hack their way inside, as was all of our systems. So how did someone who didn't even seem to know about the system to begin with know how to break into it without setting it off?

I reached over for my phone. I needed to talk to Van.

The phone rang a few times before it answered. "What is it, Bulma?"

"Van, how did you all find out about the break in at the very first location you told me about?" I asked.

"One of the guards thought they saw someone fleeing the premises, so they went to check around and found that the system had been tampered with,"

"Yeah, you told me that earlier." I leaned forward on my forearm. "But the report never specified how it was tampered with. Do you know?"

"Why?"

"I'm just following up on something regarding it,"

"I believe they said that there were burn marks on it,"

I tensed, staring blankly ahead. "Burn marks?" I dumbly repeated.

"Yes, that's what I was told,"

"It can't be," I mumbled quietly.

"What did you say?" the easily upset woman on the other end asked me.

I could feel my mind racing so fast that it was giving me a headache.

"Bulma, are you still there?" Van asked in an annoyed tone. "Bulma!"

The sound of my name being yelled in my ear brought me out of my head. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here," I quickly answered. "Van, can I call you back later? There is something that I need to look into,"

"Whatever," she scoffed before hanging up.

I looked at my computer screen and went to open the file I had gotten from Tatsuki earlier. I immediately went back to the image of the burned door on the jet. "Is it possible that this was the same person who caused my accident?"

I thought back to when I was leaving the auto shop. There was a black mark on the keypad beside the door. Maybe the same thing that was done to my jet also happened to these other places. I desperately tried piecing it together.

I leaned forward to look more closely at the image, but my arm hit the keyboard and the photo changed. An image of the shattered windshield taken from the inside was now being displayed. I was about to change it back when something caught my eye outside of the jet. I zoomed in on it, and it appeared to be a shadow on a tree. I enhanced the image even further, trying to make it clearer. I enhanced it once more and my eyes went wide at what I saw.

There, standing with their back facing towards the camera as if calmly walking away, was very much a person. The person was dressed in a black long sleeved shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. Their physique was being obscured by a long, dark mane of hair covering the entirety of their back down to their rear.

I flashed back to that night in the park. I could remember someone leaning over me, my head being surrounded by long hair.

"Oh my God!" I gasped. "That's them! That's the person who attacked me that night!"

* * *

 _Many years ago, as a young child I was walking alongside a woman, who had her long dark hair braided down, down a long pathway through the countryside. The woman and I were both dressed in silver-colored noble armoured clothing of our people. Our silver collars hung down over our chests that matched the thick plate wrapped around our abdomen, but only the woman was wearing a silver serpent bracelet winding around her right bicep and a winged sun tattoo wrapped around her left one, all with a white tunic beneath._

 _I looked up at the woman. "So what did the King want with you and father earlier?" She was my beautiful, young mother._

 _Mother sighed. "He wanted to discuss our next course of action to take,"_

 _"And what has he decided upon?"_

 _"Nothing that involves you," she immediately said, giving me a stern look._

 _"Mother, I believe that I am old enough to at least begin learning about your inner circle. I will be a part of it one day,"_

 _She stared back ahead towards our path. "Not one day soon, though," she corrected. "Now let's head home, night will soon be upon us,"_

 _I sighed, defeatedly, continuing on in silence. Looking around the area, I stared on solemnly at the sight._

 _The rolling hills of green were littered with large pieces of rock from the crumbled mountains that once lined the background of the land. Ruins of a small town lied in the distance. These details betray the facade of peace, telling a story of war._

 _Try as they might to shield me from it, my parents had never successfully been able to hide our war-torn reality._

 _We were almost to our destination, a large cottage coming into view, when suddenly, an explosion erupted in the distance. Mother and I turned around to see smoke rising from the city from which we just departed._

 _"Fukayna!"_

 _We heard Mother's name being called from the direction of the city, and light-haired man, dressed similarly to us and with the same tattoo on his bicep, came running towards us. The man was my father._

 _"Nour?!" she replied back in confusion._

 _He reached us and immediately ushered us to the cottage before either of us get a word out. Once inside he turned to us, breathing heavily. "We have to go. Now!"_

 _"Nour, what is going on out there? What happened?" Mother frantically asked Father._

 _"It's the Saiyans! They are attacking the city, and are on a straight path towards the capital!"_

 _Mother's face became determined. "Let's go," she told him, both now heading for the door. She was stopped by a yank on her arm from me. She looked back and down at me. She grabbed my hand and crouched down. "I need you to go and find someplace to hide. Someplace safe, until we get back. Am I understood?" she gently instructed_

 _"But where are you going?" I tearfully asked._

 _"Your father and I have to find the royal family so that we may protect them," she placed her hand atop my dark hair. "Wait for us. And be brave, my child," she gave my hand a squeeze before getting up and rushing out the door._

 _I allowed the hand to slip away and watched the two as they departed. The last thing seen of my mother that day was the tattoo on her arm as she vanished into the distance with my father._

 _Something in the night sky caught my eye. I looked upward to see a large ball of light suspended in the heavens above. "What is that?"_

I stood on a balcony, staring up at the lunar body that was lighting the night, my mother's words echoing in my ears. "I will be brave. But I am done waiting," I said harshly. I looked out at the city below, one dome-shaped building stood out. "Soon,"

* * *

Over in the 439 mountain area, the boys and I had just finished dinner so I was currently doing the dishes when Gohan walked in.

"Did you finish getting your brother ready for bed?" I asked without looking away from the sink.

"Yes. He's playing in the living room right now," he answered, coming to stand beside me at the sink. "Do you want some help with the rest of these?"

I looked to my right at him, not having to look down too much because of him being nearly my height at that time. "Have you done your homework yet?"

"I don't have much to do, so I can get started after I'm done helping you," he said, grabbing a cloth and began drying the dishes I had already cleaned.

I watched him for a moment before going back to washing. I wanted to protest him doing this, but I knew that it would have just fell on deaf ears, just like so many times before in the last year or so.

I had noticed that since the passing of his father, Gohan had been spending more and more of his time at home. He had been more helpful around the house and with his brother, which made me playfully wonder if it was Goku who discouraged him from doing housework in the first place.

Once we were finished, he kissed me goodnight and went to his room to start his homework, taking Goten along with him.

I removed my shoes and settled on the couch in the living room. I reached over to pick up a book that I had been reading earlier, The Calligrapher's Daughter, and opened it to where I had bookmarked the page I left off on.

As I read on about Najin's defiant journey to womanhood, the soft music playing from the old radio on the corner table distracted me. I looked over at the wooden piece. The music is creating a soothing scene for me to relax in.

I smiled as I went back to my book. "That reminds me. I should probably give Bulma a call tomorrow,"


	13. Breaking Down

**" _We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to get close enough to tell us we're wrong. Someone we trust._ " - David Levithan**

I was approaching Capsule Corp., riding on top of Flying Nimbus with Goten strapped to my back and Gohan flying beside us as we soared through the evening sky. We landed in the backyard, just as a precaution, so as to not draw too much attention to the already weird occurrences that actually surrounded the famous family.

I gracefully jumped down to the ground and the mystical cloud took off upwards into the sky to lie dormant amongst the other clouds until it was needed once again. Gohan landed beside me and we began walking towards the home.

"Mom, what do you think is going on with Bulma?" Gohan asked, having not said a word since we left the house.

I slightly adjusted the red cloth carrier that was tied diagonally around my torso, having shifted during the ride over. "Who can ever tell what's going on with that woman," I shrugged off, but underneath was asking myself the exact same question.

A couple of days ago, I had called Bulma as I reminded myself to do the previous night. It was around ten in the morning on Saturday, so I thought it was a good idea to call her up. The weekends were usually a pretty lax time for my workaholic friend, especially during that time of year. But that was definitely not the case for that day.

To begin with, it was Panchy who answered when I called Bulma's cellphone, not Bulma herself. Panchy had told me that Bulma was unavailable, and probably would be for a while. When I asked what she was up to, all Panchy could tell me was that Bulma had been working on something in her lab and hadn't come out since the night before.

Panchy then told me that Bulma had indeed been behaving strangely since her accident, which actually correlated with what Gohan had told me. Spacing out behind the wheel, forgetting things, falling asleep out of nowhere. And that odd little moment she had when she was waiting for Gohan. All of these could've been put off on work finally taking its toll, for a normal person. But when it was happening to Bulma these things become big, glaring red flags.

I called again earlier that day, only to find out that Bulma had done nothing but work in her lab, run out to do something she refused to tell anyone about and then came back and went straight into her lab.

This worried me, so I figured it had been a while since I visited West City and wanted to go see how my friend was doing.

Gohan looks over at me. "I'm being serious Mom,"

I reached over and ruffled his shaggy hair. "I know," I told him as we reached the back door. "Let's just see her before we make any assumptions, alright?" He gave me a nod before pressing a button on the intercom beside the door. A few seconds later, the door unlocked and we walked inside.

Once we entered the hallway, we were almost immediately met by the Briefs matriarch.

"Chi-Chi, Gohan!" Panchy happily greeted, coming up to engulf me in a hug. "How long has it been since you've been here at the compound?" she pulled back to look at me.

"About three months, I think," I answered with a smile.

"Hi Mrs Briefs," Gohan greeted.

"Hi Gohan, it's nice seeing you again so soon," she released me and hugged him. "So, Chi-Chi, what have you been up to for all this time?" Panchy asked, ushering us into the living room.

I began to untie the carrier and my older son came to take the sleeping toddler off of my back before we all took a seat on the couch. "You know, just busy having my hands full with these two," I said, gesturing to where Gohan was holding his brother. "Just the same as always,"

"And I see that little Goten is still absolutely adorable," she gushed about the small child. "He's going to be quite the looker when he's older, just like his big brother," she said with a wink, causing my eldest to blush. "Speaking of, how are your studies going, Gohan?"

"Really good, actually. My lessons are a lot easier for me now, so I'll be starting my AP courses pretty soon,"

"That is so wonderful to hear,"

"Yeah, it is. And it's all thanks to that program Bulma convinced me to put him in," I said. "You know I'm still not so sure about all that equipment she had set up around our house, but if a computer can help my son get a proper education then I can't really complain,"

"You're just more of a good old pencil and paper type of gal, as am I. I've never really been very keen on technology,"

"The curse of being old-fashioned, I guess,"

"There's nothing wrong with that. Old-fashion is the best fashion,"

"I couldn't agree with you more, Panchy," I laughed a little. "Speaking of that high-maintenance daughter of yours, where is she?"

The blonde's face became a bit solemn at the mention of her daughter. "She's still in her lab," she said with a sigh.

I picked up on her sudden change in mood. "Hey Panchy, where's Trunks?"

"He's in his playroom upstairs,"

I turned to my son. "Gohan, why don't you wake up Goten and take him to see Trunks,"

He nodded. "Yes ma'am," he stood up and walked out with his brother in his arms.

I waited until I could no longer hear footsteps before speaking again. "What is going around here?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"What do you mean?"

"This morning you told me that Bulma has been basically living in her lab for the past three days, acting strangely and working herself ragged. What is going on with her?"

Panchy leaned back into her seat with a sigh. "It's been quite a while since I've seen her get like this," she said, staring straight ahead.

I raised an eyebrow. "She's done this sort of thing before?"

She nodded. "A few times, actually. The first time was when she was seventeen. It was right after she came back from that year-long trip that she met Goku on. She threw herself into her studies and accepted an internship with her father, which kept her very busy. All she ever did was work and go to school,"

"That doesn't sound so bad,"

She turned to look at me. "She did that for three years straight, all year round, until she finally got her first degree. Her father had always worked less than three hundred thirty days out of a year, but she worked for almost three hundred twenty for those three years,"

"So what made her take a break?" I asked, curiously confused. "Clearly she mellowed out enough to want to attend the World Martial Arts Tournament after those years, right?"

"How did you know that she had gone to that tournament?"

"I was there," I said with a shrug of my shoulder.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I was one of the competitors," I recalled.

Panchy hummed at the information. "Bulma never told us about that," she said, looking away thoughtfully. "But anyway. Once she saw that another tournament was being held she said that she knows that her friends will be there to compete. I guess she was right. After she came back, she went on to finish grad school, but as she did that she was more...like her old self; still a perfectionist, but a lot more laidback,"

"You said that this has happened a few times," I brought back up.

"More times than I'm comfortable discussing. But the last time was when she found out that she was pregnant with Trunks. Admittedly so, this particular time was a lot less severe than those that came before it, but still worrying, nonetheless,"

"Seems like the price one must pay for being a tortured genius," I lightly joked. "But I never would have guessed that Bulma had these workaholic episodes,"

"I wouldn't expect you all to know about that. Regardless of how much she cares for her friends, she is still a very private person when it comes to her own problems,"

I thought this over for a moment. "So she usually gets like this when something happens, right?" Panchy nodded. "So what triggered it this time?"

"I believe that it may have something to do with her accident last week. It's not as if she hasn't been in an accident before, but it's as if this one did something to her, something we can't see, and it's bothering her to the point of paranoia,"

"Paranoia?"

"You would have to see it in order to understand what I'm telling you,"

"I'll take your word on that," I murmured. "So can I go see her?"

"She hasn't really welcomed anyone's company for a while," she said, having obviously failed in trying to get through to her daughter.

"What if I went in there and just talked to her?" I offered, standing up from the couch.

"You can try,"

I gave her a nod before walking off.

As I made my way through the many hallways of the building, I passed by Panchy's garden. I stopped when I spotted someone familiar through the glass doors. I could see Vegeta crouched down, doing something that I could not see because his back was turned.

I shrugged it off and continued on my way.

A few minutes later and I was standing in front of the door to the lab. I gave the door a light knock, waited a few seconds and just opened it muself before walking inside.

The door must have been soundproof, because the second I cracked it open the sound of a loud power tool being used seeped through.

I peeked my head in and looked around. "Bulma," I called out, coming farther into the room and shutting the door behind myself. I spotted the woman in the far right corner of the room, leaning over a table. "Bulma?" I said, walking up to her, but she seemed to have not heard me. Once I reached her I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Bulma,"

The woman whipped around with a small saw in her hands, that was still on.

Thanks to my years as a martial artist, I was able to notice the blade just in time to dodge it by leaning my head back, allowing it to narrowly miss my neck.

"Chi-Chi?" Bulma exclaimed, pulling up the safety goggles she had over her eyes onto her forehead.

"Dammit, Bulma, you nearly slit my throat!" I angrily told her, taking a couple of steps back.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" the startled woman apologized, turning off the tool and placing it on the table behind her. "I didn't know who you were,"

"So you were just going to decapitate whoever it was?" I mockingly asked.

"No, of course not! You just surprised me a little there," she attempted to explain.

"Remind me to never throw you a surprise party. Ever," I deadpanned. "Why are you so jumpy anyway?"

"I'm not jumpy. You snuck up on me,"

"I called your name three times, you jackass. I didn't sneak up on you,"

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "How long have you been here anyway?" she asked, leaning back on the table.

"Not very long. About fifteen minutes at the most,"

"Are you here by yourself or...?"

"No, the boys are with me," I told her, confused at the lack of strangeness that I was expecting from the woman.

"Where are they?"

"With Trunks in his playroom,"

Bulma pushed away from the table and walked over to sit in the seat in front of her computer. "So what made you come to the city again?"

I walked over to join her at the computer. "Well, I thought that the boys could use a little time away from the house, which was why I let Gohan go with you the other day,"

"Is he still upset with me about cutting our day short?" she asked, sadly.

I waved my hand dismissively. "He was never upset with you, just a little worried really," I told her. "Which brings me back to why I am here. Bulma, what is going on with you?"

"I don't understand what you're asking,"

"Bulma, I spoke to Panchy a few minutes ago," the scientist groaned at this. "She told me that you have done nothing but work in here all weekend, and I find out today that you're still cooped up in here and won't tell anyone the reason as to why you are doing this,"

"Doing what?"

"Becoming a workaholic recluse,"

"That's a bit of an over exaggeration, don't you think?"

"Oh really? So answer me this, have you been sleeping in here?"

"That's not as uncommon as you think. Chi-Chi, trust me when I say that this is not me having some mental breakdown, as I'm sure my mother made it seem,"

I just crossed my arms over my chest. "Then please elaborate for me, because from what I've heard it seems as if you've been having some sort of episode since your accident," Bulma turned the chair away from me. I grabbed her shoulder and turned her back around. "Talk to me. What is going on in that head of yours?"

The scientist bowed her head, hiding her face beneath her bangs. "Just go away," she said quietly.

"Bulma, I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me,"

"I don't know," she said, almost a whisper.

"What?"

"I don't know, okay?" she said a bit louder this time, now looking up at me with a fallen face. "You asked me what is going on in my head, but I don't know the answer to that. So I am trying to do what I do best, and that is try to make sense of what this is and why it's happening to me,"

I was confused by her sudden admission. "What're you talking about? What's happening to you," there was silence between us. "Bulma,"

The genius combs her hand through her hair. "By now I'm sure that everyone knows about my accident last week, right?"

"I guess so. Especially since it happened right here in the city," I shrugged.

"But what everyone doesn't know is how it happened in the first place," she leaned back in the chair. "On my way home from East City Wednesday night...something happened," she flexed her jaw a bit. "It was already dark when I got back to West City, so I was able to see this light coming from somewhere on the ground below. I don't know why, but I decided to fly lower to see it better. Something hit my jet a few seconds after that," she sighed. "The next thing I knew that light was inside the jet with me and my arm felt like it was on fire," she rubbed at her left bicep. "I can't fully recall what happened after that, other than some bits and pieces and Vegeta finding me,"

I was perplexed by what I had been told. "It sounds like you're saying that your accident ...wasn't ...an accident," I said, very unsure of myself.

"That's because it wasn't," she clarified, all too calmly. She turned around in her chair to face her computer before I had a chance to say more. "I've been desperately trying to remember what happened to me that night in the park," she typed away as she continued. "I finally got a lead Friday night," she opened a file and went right to a picture.

I leaned beside her to get a better look at the screen. "What is this?"

"Someone I know took pictures of the scene that night and gave me these. At first I was just looking for my briefcase, but then I found this instead," she zoomed in on a particular spot in the background and focused the image. A person could be seen from behind.

"What am I looking at here? Who is that?"

"That is the person whom I believe may have been the cause of the crash,"

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, baffled by what I was being told.

"And I haven't told anyone else about this, but I also vaguely remember someone was with me in the park, and I think that they attacked me," she calmly shared as she leaned forward on her elbows and rested her chin atop her intertwined fists.

I turned to look at the oddly relaxed woman. "Do you realize that you just said that someone caused your accident and then attacked you? How can you be so calm about this?"

"That shock kinda wore off by Saturday morning," she said with a nonchalant shrug.

I gave her an incredulous look. "Then what the hell have you been doing the last few days?"

"I've been running back and forth between all of the locations that the company has here in the city. I decided that it was time to put a former idea to use,"

"What were you doing?"

"I personally installed new locking systems after some of our warehouses were burglarized early on Friday," she explained.

"Is that why everyone thinks you've been avoiding them and working yourself into a stupor?"

"Well excuse the hell out of me for taking the initiative to get shit done," she bit. "And the only reason I've been working non-stop is because I'm trying to get this out of the way while my mind is still working with me, and not against me like before,"

I covered my eyes with my right hand. "Bulma, if things are this bad why haven't you told anyone about it?"

"Who could I have told?" she seriously asked.

I dropped my hand and stared at her. "Vegeta, your parents, hell even your evil cousin could've been helpful. Anybody!"

"Don't you think I know that? But I didn't want to be the cause of a panic until I found out if there was a real reason for it. Everyone is already treating me like glass, I don't even wanna imagine how they're going to be after I tell them about this. I just wanna get a better understanding of what's going on before things get too out of my hands,"

I looked around the lab space, trying to figure out how to process this. "What do you want me to do with all that you just told me?" I sullenly asked, not looking at her.

"I want you to do nothing with it. This is my problem and my problem alone, so don't let this worry you,"

I reached down and turned the chair around to face me. "Bulma, as your friend, I cannot allow you to carry on like this. Goku would be so disappointed with me if I did,"

Bulma stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Chi-Chi, listen to me, I need to figure this out, but I have to do it my way. Goku, of all people, would understand that,"

"Just promise me that if you feel overwhelmed by all of it that you will tell someone about this," she actually remained quiet. "Bulma, promise me," I sternly said, staring directly into her eyes. I could feel the uncertainty radiating off of her, as if truly having to contemplate her answer. I look to the side and saw a plethora of firearms sitting on a table in the back of the room. I looked back to her. "Bulma, have you been using your gun range lately?"

"I..." she began, hesitantly, but before she gave her answer the door to the room came open.

Bulma looked at something over my shoulder, causing me to whip around to see what it was. Standing in the doorway was Bulma's cousin.

"Hey Van, what're you doing here?" she asked her cousin.

"What the hell do mean what am I doing here?" the lightly tanned woman said, coming over to us. "Bulma, why aren't you dressed?" she asked, looking her up and down.

The scientist looked down at herself. She was wearing a black v-neck t-shirt and dark blue jeans with a pair of black Nike's. She looked at her cousin's attire. She was wearing a black jumpsuit and a white jacket with yellow, blue and red patterns all over it, paired along with red stilettos. And her brown hair had been set free and was cascading over her shoulders.

"Dressed for what?"

"You're kidding me, right?" she deadpanned. "We have to be in Orange Star City in two hours for that party the mayor is throwing,"

She pinched the bridge of her nose with a groan. "I'm sorry, I totally forgot about that,"

"I know, you've been doing a lot of that lately," she bit.

She sheepishly looked downward. "Let me just head upstairs,"

"Wait a second," I interjected. "Bulma, do you really think that now is such a good time to be going out?" I asked, thinking about our conversation a few minutes ago.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Van asked me.

I looked to my friend, who gave me a stern look with a subtle shake of her head, knowing what I was thinking about saying. "Nothing. Never mind," I conceded with a sigh.

"Chi-Chi, right?" the bitter woman suddenly asked me.

"Yes, that's right. We've met many times before," I answered with a bored tone.

Van began to approach me, somewhat menacingly. "I don't really expect any of Bulma's little friends to understand the importance of keeping up public appearances, so I'll give you a pass for now," she insulted, now standing about a foot away. Which was way too close for me.

"Van!" Bulma exclaimed.

"You'll give me a pass?" I echoed, almost laughing at her snobbish words, not backing down.

"That's right. But the next time you hear me discussing something, that you obviously know nothing about, I expect you to keep your mouth shut and your opinion to yourself," she spat at me, obviously trying to appear threatening.

"Or what?" I challenged, a bit irritated now, taking a step a closer.

"I'd tell you, but it might be a bit too complicated for you to comprehend,"

"Alright, Van, that's enough!" Bulma said, sliding in between us and facing her cousin.

"Your friend needs to learn her place," she further insulted.

"I said that's enough," she practically growled, surprising both of us. "Now back up,"

I couldn't see her face, but from the look on Van's said that she did not look happy.

When the woman didn't move after a few seconds, Bulma stepped closer until their noses were nearly touching. "Back off, Van. I won't say it again," she openly warned, causing my eyebrows to rise to my forehead.

Van simply rolled her eyes with a scoff. "Whatever," and she turned to walk away. "I'll be upstairs. Just go get dressed," she called out over her shoulder as she exited the lab.

With the room now silent, the sound of Bulma's heavy breathing could be heard. She suddenly grabbed at her left arm as if she were in pain.

I walked around to stand in front of her. "Bulma, are you okay?"

She got a hold of her breathing and closed her eyes for a moment. She stared at me and gave a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine,"

"Maybe you should think about skipping this party," I suggested.

"No. It'll be good for me to get out and be around people again,"

"Okay, if that's what you want. I think I'm gonna go see what the boys are up to," I said, turning on my heels and walking towards the door.

"Chi-Chi, hold on a sec," she called out.

I turned back to her. "What?"

Bulma walked up to me. "I'm sorry about Van,"

"Even though I was about a second away from breaking her jaw, I honestly should've saw it coming. The woman has always been a total bitch to everyone. Please do not waste your breath trying to apologize for her," I assured her.

"I could not agree with you more on that one," she laughed a little. "But I was wondering if maybe you would like to come with me,"

"Oh, I don't know if that's..." I trailed off.

"Come on, when was the last time you went out and did something?" before I gave an answer, Bulma interrupted. "That didn't involve children,"

"Before Gohan was born, I guess,"

"You do realize that Gohan is thirteen years old, right?"

"And now I have a two year old to take care of, remember?" I pointed out.

"From one mother to another, I can tell you that it is perfectly natural to want to spend some time away from your kids. It doesn't make you bad parent for taking the night off,"

I couldn't deny how tempting the offer was. It was true that I had dedicated my life to taking care of my family, wanting nothing more to see my children thrive in life, selflessly doing whatever was necessary to see that happen. During the years after Goku passed it seemed that everything had been going smoothly in our lives, all thanks to his sacrifice. Exactly what he wanted. So why not take advantage of the peace that had been bestowed upon our lives.

I gave a defeated sigh. "I don't even have anything to wear," I said, gesturing my hand over my clothes. I was wearing a white Chinese blouse with a pink floral pattern and blue silk pants.

Bulma gave me a smirk worthy of her normal self. "You let me handle that part,"

* * *

Over in the garden, I was crouched down low, staring intently at the plant in front of me.

I had decided that I would accept the challenge presented me and prove that I was capable of doing anything anyone else could. So I stuck out my chin and chose a plant. An African Violet.

I was currently giving my project its daily watering, careful to not to get water anywhere else except the base.

I chose this particular flower simply because of how difficult the woman said it would be to take care of it. She told me everything I needed to know about it before I started, leaving me to figure out how to keep it alive. But if the wilting buds were of any indication, I wasn't doing very well.

"Well, it looks like you're over-watering it again," Panchy said from behind me, looking down at the flower with me.

"You said that it needed eight ounces of water a day," I harshly reminded her.

"Yes, but not all at once. About four ounces in the morning and another four in the evening should do nicely. But try to hold off on watering it for about twenty-four hours to allow it enough time soak up the extra water and heal,"

"Stupid, fragile weed," I mumbled, placing the watering can down and standing straight up.

"I told you that this was a very delicate one. It does require a bit more attention than the average flower," she said. "If you want to choose a different one I'll understand,"

"It's just a flower. I think I can handle it," I sarcastically said.

"Alright. But try to remember that flowers are like children in some ways. You can't force feed it an entire daily dose of what it needs. You have to do so periodically throughout the day for a proper balance of nutrients,"

"That's an extreme comparison,"

"It's actually not. Plants are like people in many different ways, you just have to pay close enough attention to see it,"

I shook my head at her banter before walking off. "I need something to hit right now,"

As I made my way through the hall, I see Bulma and...Kakarot's woman rounding the corner and walking towards me. We all met in the middle and stopped.

"Hello, Vegeta," the dark haired harpy snarked, whilst Bulma simply stood there staring at me.

We hadn't really seen much each other since that past Friday, and we were on somewhat good terms, so I was confused by her cold reception.

"Why are you here?" I told the snarky little woman.

"Not that it's any your business, but I'm here to see my friend. And now we're going to get ready to go out."

I raised an eyebrow. "Going out where?"

Bulma didn't answer, the other woman did. "We're going to an event thrown by the mayor that Bulma was invited to," she explained.

I looked over at Bulma, who still hadn't said a word. "Can I speak with you for a moment. Alone,"

She stared for a moment before responding. "Chi-Chi, why don't you head on up to my room. I'll be up in a minute."

"Sure," she surprisingly said without protest and left.

When I was certain that she was out of earshot I spoke. "Do you really think that's the best thing for you to be doing right now?"

"What?"

"Maybe don't go out as you are,"

"So now you know what's best for me?" she scoffed and attempted to walk past me but I gently grabbed her arm.

"What is wrong with you, woman? I am speaking to you," I told her.

She yanked her arm away and turned to me. "Do not talk to me as if I'm some child," she practically snarled at me.

I was taken aback. "What the fuck is wrong you?"

"I could say the same to you,"

"All I did was suggest that you not go out with your current mental state,"

"I don't need you to suggest anything for me. So just keep it to yourself,"

I flexed my jaw in growing frustration. "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want,"

"Don't worry, I was planning to anyways," she sneered as she brushed past me and went in to the direction Chi-Chi had gone.

My eyes followed her. "What the fuck was that about?"

I was so angry yet so confused by what just happened. Little did I know, little did we all know, it was only just the beginning of the madness.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Chi-Chi, Van and I all arrived at the party in Orange Star City. The three of us walked inside and Van immediately broke off to go make conversation with the other guests.

I looked around the crowded venue and spotted a bar. "Do you wanna go get a drink?" I suggested.

"Sure, why not?" she said, following me through the sea of people.

The two of us took a seat at the bar, completely unaware that one of the other guests was watching us from across the room.

"Two glasses of merlot, please," I told the bartender.

"Well if it ain't Madam President herself," a loud, gruff voice said.

I looked over and groaned at the person I saw coming my way. "Incoming," I warned.

"What is it?" Chi-Chi asked.

"You remember that guy who took all the credit for beating Cell?" I pointed out towards the crowd at the man coming our way.

"Great," she groaned out.

The bartender brought out out drinks and I picked up mine. "Hercule Satan," I said once he stopped in front of me. "I thought I smelled bad cologne and cigars," I mocked with a straight face.

He laughs loudly at my insult. "That's that Briefs humor I like so much,"

"So what brings the champ back O.S. City?" I asked him, taking a sip of my wine.

"This is my hometown, so the mayor invited me back for this little shindig. Ya'know, this is all for me. Held in my honor," he smugly boasted.

"What honor? And why? Are you getting another reward you don't deserve?"

"Sorta. The mayor is renaming the city after me,"

I stared baffled at him.

Chi-Chi downed her drink in a single gulp. "Bartender, can I get another?"


	14. Treat Her Like A Lady

**" _Girls, you've gotta know when it's time to turn the page._ " - Tori Amos**

Chi-Chi and I were still sitting at the bar, watching as the mayor introduced Hercule before giving him the key to the city. The curly haired man posed in front of a large backdrop of Orange Star City, now renamed Satan City after the "Hero of Earth," as he was often referred in those days.

His wife and young daughter were standing off to the side as he struck pose after dramatic pose for the dozens of party-goers snapping photos of their savior.

"What a joke," I murmured as I took a sip from my drink. "I really wish you would have told me that this was a party for Satan, then I definitely would have stayed home tonight,"

"It was announced over a month ago. I couldn't remember all of the unnecessary details. I'm not you," Van told me, having stopped by the bar to order a drink.

"You call the reason for the event an unnecessary detail?" I asked in a deadpan tone.

"Regardless. I know how you feel about him, but-"

I downed the remainder of my beverage before cutting her off. "Oh, you have no idea the depths of my dislike towards that boastful moron,"

"I also think that he's a moron, but we have to at least give the guy the respect he deserves for what he did for this planet. He's a hero, and that cannot be so easily dismissed," Van explained. The bartender brought her a grey goose martini. She picks up her drink with a napkin. "Just try not to allow your attitude towards him to ruin this event,"

"Yes ma'am," I mocked with a salute as my cousin rolled her eyes and walked away.

I leaned backwards on the bar and simply stared around the event hall. The room had a white and red color scheme with large posters of the guest of honor in his signature pose, looking as foolish as ever. There were nearly two hundred guests in attendance, all dressed to the nines in mostly black clothing- which explained why Van's only request was that I wore some form of black tonight- and some even wore masquerade ball masks.

I chose a calf-length black skirt with a slit that went up to my left thigh, exposing almost my entire left leg. I was wearing a dark blue, half-sleeve, fitted shirt that covered my bandaged arm and exposed a bit of midriff since the skirt came up to just above my navel. I had a pair of black red bottom high heels, a simple white-gold chain with a heart-shaped blue topaz around my neck and an ivory and platinum watch on my left wrist.

I dressed Chi-Chi in something a bit less showy. She had on black slacks that presented her curves, which were usually hidden underneath loose-fitting pants. She was wearing a dark purple blouse with every single button buttoned up, at the neck and wrists. She opted for shoes with a short heel, so I chose a black pair of heels with a four inch heel. It was the shortest I had. Her long, black hair had been done in a back ponytail with her bangs framing her face. She had never been the type to wear jewelry, so she chose none.

The look was beautiful but reserved, just like her.

Masks were being handed out to guests upon entry through the door, so Van, Chi-Chi and myself all had one. Van grabbed a black scaramuccia mask, Chi-Chi chose the far more delicate Gatto mask with a patchy color scheme, while I chose a simple black colombina mask with dark jewels aligning the edges. Van was wearing hers, whereas my friend and I had ours sitting atop the bar.

"Gosh Bulma, I didn't think that you would feel so strongly about what he did at the games," Chi-Chi said, looking out at the crowd with me.

"It's not just about that," I said, keeping my voice down despite the music playing and no one being near us. "None of the guys cared enough to announce their hand in what happened, so neither do I. They let him have all the glory because that's who they are. But that does not give him the right to bash them and sully their image in the eyes of the people they worked so hard to save. That's why I don't like him,"

Chi-Chi threw her head back with a groan. "Just imagine how nice it would have been for us if Gohan stepped up as the real hero,"

I smiled as I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Chi-Chi, a real hero doesn't expect to be thanked or even recognized, and a real hero doesn't call himself one. Remember that,"

She dropped her head with a sigh. "I know. Hercule has all but changed his first name to hero. Still would've been nice, though." she solemnly said.

I chuckled a bit at my friend. It was times like this that truthfully made me wonder why the woman had always refused any help from me financially. Yes, I had been allowed to buy things for the boys every now and again and help out where education was involved, but that was just me fulfilling my role as their aunt and Godmother. I had offered dozens of times to help out with everything else, but Chi-Chi wanted nothing from me that would be for herself. It was totally understandable for an adult to feel this way, but sometimes her pride reached Vegeta-like levels. The irony was not lost upon her.

"So how have things been with The Prince of No One? What did he wanna talk about?" Chi-Chi suddenly asked.

I sighed deeply through my nose. "I don't wanna talk about it,"

"Do I sense a bit of trouble in paradise?" she humorously asked.

"We broke up," I simply said, avoiding the topic of earlier.

"Are you serious?"

"Well, sort of. I told him that I wanted to take a break and he agreed. That was Friday, and I hadn't seen much of him until today. That's mainly because I've been so busy, but the only time we've actually spoken to one another resulted in me calling him out for behaving like an overbearing parent towards me, and these little streaks of jealousy he keeps having."

"What do you mean?"

"He kept making these underhanded comments about me being with other men. Which is just crazy because I thought that he was fine with the idea of us not being together,"

"You may have to give him a pass on that one,"

I turned my head towards her. "Why the hell should I?"

"Because, as much as you like to think that he isn't, he is still just a man. A man can be just as insecure as a woman can. Remember that," she told me.

I looked away from her again. Maybe she was right about that. I did hold Vegeta higher than most based upon what he was capable of and what he meant to me.

"Excuse me, miss," a voice said from the other side of Chi-Chi, a male voice, putting an end to our annoying conversation.

We looked over at him. He was tall, dark and handsome and looked to be around my age. He was wearing a black suit and tie with a white shirt underneath. His hair was black and hung just above his broad shoulders.

"Yes?" Chi-Chi responded.

"I don't know if this would be a bit too forward of me, but would you care to dance with me?" he politely asked.

I smirked at her surprised expression from hearing his request. Seeing that she was probably preparing to turn him down, I spoke up. "Go on Chi-Chi, we're here to have a good time, remember?" I nudged. "Plus, he's kinda easy on the eyes," I added with a wink.

"It's getting kind of late," she tried to make up an excuse.

"So?"

"So what about the boys?"

"What about them?"

"We need to head home pretty soon,"

"No need. You all are sleeping over tonight," I took out my phone and quickly typed a message. "I just texted my mom and told her that you're staying over and to not let the boys stay up too late. How's that?"

"But Gohan has his classes in the morning,"

"They're online courses. I have dozens of computers he could use to sign into the program in the morning. Now stop trying to come up with excuses and go dance with mister...?" I trailed off, looking over at the man.

"Nathan, Nathan Osaka," he answered with a smile.

"Mr Osaka,"

She conceded with a sigh. "Alright," she turned to him. "I'll dance with you for one song and one song only, you got it?"

"I got it," he offered his hand for her to take, putting his mask on. "Shall we?"

She hesitantly took his proffered hand, grabbed her mask and slipped it on as he escorted her to the dance floor. Suddenly, one of her favorite songs erupted through the speakers, What You Won't Do for Love by Bobby Caldwell, and her face lit up as she and her dancing partner begin dancing to the jazzy tune.

I knew that it was one of the very few R&B songs that she actually enjoyed, so at least she'd enjoy that one dance. If anyone needed to relax it was her. She deserved to have a little fun every now and then.

I smiled contently as I watched my friend unwind on the dance floor.

Suddenly, I felt someone sidle up beside me at the bar to my right. I couldn't see the person as I was facing leftwards.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but come over here just to ask you something that's been on my mind since you walked in," a feminine voice said to me.

I kept my eyes on the dance floor. "And what would that be?" I replied with an uninterested tone.

"Has anyone ever told you that you kind of look a lot like Bulma Briefs?"

I turned my head to the left. "You don't s..." I stopped my snarky remark upon seeing who it was. A slender woman with an olive complexion and green eyes, wearing a black, backless, lace-shouldered dress. Her wavy black hair is styled in a bob. "Marina? Marina Castillo?"

"Who else do you know looks this good in black?" she smirked.

"You mean besides myself?" I shot back, going in for a hug around the shoulders. "It's so good to see you," Marina placed a hand to the small of my back to return the embrace before I pulled away. "What're you doing here? I thought I'd never catch you back after the last time,"

"Don't remind me," she groaned. "Why do you think I chose to cut my hair in the first place?" she lightly said.

"And here I thought that you just liked how it looked on me," I joked.

"Honey, I like how everything looks on you," she flirtatiously said, looking me up and down suggestively. "But that doesn't mean I wanna look like you. Anyway. I'm only here because Miguel heard that I was in town doing a photo shoot and wanted to see me, so thought I'd stop by,"

Marina was a world renowned photographer and fashion designer, whom I met while posing for the company's third catalogue, when I was still working as an assistant for someone else, about eight years before all of this.

"Who's Miguel?"

"Really Nemo?" she said with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of her head. "Miguel Satan, my cousin,"

Nemo was a nickname she gave me many years ago due to my mnemonic capabilities, but at that moment it might as well have been in reference to the fish because I had been feeling very lost those days.

"Wait a minute! Your cousin Miguel is _that Miguel_?" I asked, surprisingly, pointing up at the stage where a woman was standing with a young girl.

"Well, by marriage, but yeah," she shrugged.

"Now that I'm thinking back on it, you never told me that she was your cousin, only that you had a cousin named Miguel," I clarified. "I wouldn't forget something like that,"

"Well, enough about my extensive family tree. What're you doing sitting over here all by yourself?"

"Just enjoying the party from afar,"

"You here by yourself?"

I shook my head. "No. I came with Van and a friend of mine."

"You mean that little cutie over there on the dance floor?" she asked.

I looked over to find that Chi-Chi was still dancing with Nathan after two songs. "Yeah, that's her. What about you?"

"I am also here with a friend," she said with a smile.

"Oh, okay, so you brought yourself some company," I playfully said, moving a little closer. "So do I know this friend?"

"I doubt it. It's a very new friend. We met just last week," she said, looking over at the crowd. "Here she comes now," she motioned for a woman to come over.

I looked over to see this new woman in my friend's life, and my eyebrows shot to my hairline at what I was seeing.

A young woman with olive tone skin with chestnut hair and brown eyes, wearing a black dress with emerald accents.

Marina greeted her with a kiss to the cheek. "Did you find your earring?"

"Yeah. I mistakenly dropped it in the ladies room," she said, her raspy voice making her even more familiar.

"That's good," Marina turned back to me. "Oh, this is Bulma, an old friend of mine. And Bulma, this lovely young lady is..."

"Shion?" I blurted confusedly.

"Miss Briefs! I mean Bulma!" the young woman blurted back.

"Wait. You two know each other? How?" Marina interjected.

"Shion is the newest member of Capsule Corp's graphic design team," I explained. "She started today. How did you two meet?"

"During that big storm last week. I saw her walking around without an umbrella, so I offered to share a taxi. I gave her my card by the end of the ride," Marina told me.

"Sounds like something straight out of a bad rom-com." I poked fun.

"You would know, since your whole life is a bad rom-com," she poked right back.

"Hey, don't say such factual things to me," I said, feigning seriousness. "So Shion, are you having a good time?"

"Yeah, sure," she timidly answered, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Is something wrong?" Marina asked, reaching for her hand, but she moved it out reach.

I noticed the obvious avoidance of physical contact and the way she went tense at a simple peck on the cheek. "I think I'm gonna go and find Van," I said, slipping mask on and resting it on my hair and then pointing my thumb out towards the crowd to my left. "I'll see you at work, Shion. Have a good night." I walked away from the couple and began wandering aimlessly.

The dimly lit room was filled with masked, chattering party goers, whom were surrounded by lively music provided by a talented DJ. The few guests dancing around were thoroughly engrossed in their fun, including my usually uptight friend, giving the room a cathartic atmosphere in my eyes as I played the role of a desperate onlooker.

I wanted so badly to be one of them, to let go of my inhibitions, even if just for a little while. The feeling of being so disconnected from the world I had become so accustomed to was now glaringly obvious amongst the crowd of disguised socialites and hollywood figures, the types of which I was usually comfortable around, but now just made me wish that I could just go home already.

By the time I stopped walking I was near the middle of the dance floor. I could see Van speaking with the maskless mayor and a couple of others near the back of the room, and I spotted Chi-Chi still dancing and laughing. They were each doing their own thing, so I chose not to disrupt them.

I sighed, contemplating heading back to the bar, when I received a sudden tap on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, m'lady," a light, slightly accented voice said from behind me.

I rolled my eyes before turning around to face the person, very uninterested in what they had to say, but I ended up just staring at the person.

The person standing before me was a somewhat pale man in a black, venetian prince mask, who was probably a few years older than myself. From what little I could see of the top half beneath the mask, he had delicate facial features that gave him a gentle appearance. His soft brown hair was cut low on the sides with wavy bangs hanging over his forehead. The darkness of the mask highlighted amber eyes. He had a slender build that was covered by an all black tuxedo, standing about three or four inches taller than me.

I awkwardly cleared my throat. "Yes?" I responded, trying not to stare too much at the gorgeous man.

"Well, I was hoping that you would do me the honor of a having a turn around the dance floor," he politely said, slightly bending forward at the waist in a bow, extending a hand for me to take. "What do you say?"

He was a gentleman and, as far as I could tell, he was cute. I guess I wasn't really doing much at the moment, so I might as well. I reached out and accepted his proffered hand. "I would love to," I said with a small smirk, sliding my mask down over my eyes.

"Then shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," and I allowed him to lead me to the center of the dance floor.

Once there, the song changed from the up tempo tune of Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood to the much softer, slower one of Don't Stray by Rare Times.

He placed his left hand on my waist and gently grasped my left hand with his right. I laid my right hand on his shoulder and we began slowly dancing together, all the while keeping a respectful distance between us.

"So," I began as we swayed back and forth. "Since I so graciously accepted your offer, is it okay if I asked who you are?"

"What do you mean who I am?"

"Well, as you could imagine, I've been to a lot of these kind of events and yet I can't recall ever seeing you at any of them,"

"You are Bulma Briefs, correct?" he asked, staring curiously down at me.

"I don't really enjoy just saying my name out of nowhere like that, but, yes, I am,"

"Well, I believe that I have heard enough about your name to know that you wouldn't really be amongst...commoners," he said, pointedly. "And I do believe that is the point of the mask,"

"Touché about the mask," I tilted my head to the side in curiosity. "And I wouldn't exactly describe someone who is less known than myself as a commoner, but I think I understand what you mean. I just don't understand how that answers my question about you,"

He gave a small smile. "In comparison to yourself, I might just be a commoner. So how would you know if I haven't been to any of these?" he explained, smoothly.

"I think that I would remember someone like you," I flirtatiously said, staring into beautifully colored eyes. There were some things I couldn't help doing, even if my head was a little messed up at the moment. "What do you do?"

"You mean my profession?" I nodded once as an answer. "Well, I am something of an engineer, mostly working with vehicles and metal work. What about yourself?"

"I thought that you'd heard enough about me?" I smirked.

"I know your name, I don't know you,"

I hummed with laughter. "Good answer,"

He nodded. "Thank you,"

"I do the same as you, but also designing. Pretty much anything you can think of relating to the field of science and engineering. And I've recently began dabbling with bionics and bioengineering as well," I told him.

He raised a curious eyebrow at me. "Why bionics and bioengineering? Those aren't very common things to just dabble in,"

"Some past events have awakened my curiosity," I alluded, referring to my experience with the androids. "You see, I've always thought of the body as somewhat of a computer; it has a motor, a hard drive, and a plethora of pumps, fans, wires and gears," I placed my right hand over my heart then moved it upward to point a finger at my head, and finally gestured over my body.

"I suppose I have a similar view about the body, myself. Those components are fascinating,"

"Not to mention the billions of nerves that process it all. These things all work in tandem to help keep it running properly. And, just like machines, some bodies are made to last while others have defects that hinder their lifespans," I explained.

"That is an unusual way of seeing things," he commented.

I looked down at my feet. "I know. But that's just the way my head works sometimes. As a woman of science and logic I can't really help but want to analyze things,"

"It's only natural to want to know more,"

"Exactly," I quietly said, relieved that he agreed.

"The nerves and the cells are the most interesting parts for me. But while the cells can be altered to the point of changing your physical make-up, the nerves can be shocked into changing the body's physiology, even affecting something as delicate as memory," he elaborated.

I looked back up at him, something he had just said triggering something in my head.

 _I stumbled into tree after tree, the only things keeping me from falling over with every few steps I took. My eyes lit up at the sight of a clearing where the lights of the city could be seen. I pushed myself off of the tree and made another attempt at running._

 _I did not make it very far._

 _Without seeing it coming, I felt my hip brush past something and my body was suddenly seizing from being somehow electrocuted. I tumbled to the ground as my legs gave out in pain, and was unable to call out due to something grabbing my leg and giving me another shock, rendering me a twitchy, sputtering mess._

 _"I did not want to resort to hurting you, but you are a stubborn one," my assailant mused, dragging me farther back into the park by the ankle._

 _I managed to roll onto my back as I slid across the grass, hazily staring at the clothed back of my captor, trying to ask a desperate question. "W-what did y-you...?" was all I could coherently articulate._

 _"I gave your system a small shock of a few hundred volts of electricity. Not enough to stop your heart, but just enough to disrupt your nervous system...temporarily, of course,"_

I stared curiously at him. That's probably what happened to me. That's how I got incapacitated that night. I was attempting to finish wrapping my head around the idea when he spoke again.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

I gazed helplessly into amber eyes. "I..."

"Bulma?"

I whipped around at the sound of my name. Navigating his way through the crowd was none other than my former longtime lover. "Yamcha?"

He came to stand in front of me. "I knew that hair and body looked familiar. What're you doing here?" he asked me.

"I could ask you the same thing," I countered. "I thought that you were busy with the team,"

"The team is in town because we played the Orange Star City Braves earlier today. What about you?"

"It's kind of a business thing," I said, not truthfully aware of why it was I was still there.

"Hey, weren't you just dancing with someone?" he asked, looking behind me.

I turned back to the man. "Oh, I'm so sor...ry," my apology was cut short upon finding that my dance partner was nowhere to be seen. I looked around the room for him but to no avail. "I didn't even get a chance to ask his name," I murmured to myself.

"What did you say?" Yamcha asked.

God, Yamcha could not have had worse timing _._

I sighed, defeatedly. "Nothing,"

"Well, since we're already on the dance floor, do you wanna dance with me?" he asked me. "I know how much you like this song,"

Coloring by Kevin Garrett had began playing.

I turned back to him. "Sure," I answered with a forced smile.

He pulled me in and placed a hand to the small of my back and held my right hand, causing us to be flush against each other.

"Ya'know, I don't really get this song all that much," he said as we swayed to the music.

I solemnly rested my head on his shoulder, listening to the lyrics of the bittersweet tune. "I know,"

* * *

Back at the compound, we were all together in my playroom. Gohan was finishing up his English homework on a laptop, sitting on the floor with the device on a low crafts table near a corner of the room. Goten and I were currently playing with some Legos in the middle of the room.

I finished my idea first. "There!" I held up my Lego sculpture of a very decent looking model plane.

Goten finished his and stood up to show it off. It was a two and a half foot long clunky line of Legos.

"What is that?" I asked him.

"It's a sord!" he exclaimed, obviously.

Me being the child that I was just shrugged my shoulders. "If you say so,"

The door to the room opened and we all looked over to see my grandma standing in the doorway.

"Boys, it's getting late. Time to get ready for bed," she told us.

"But I wanted to wait until my mom got back, plus I'm trying to get a head start on finishing this English assignment," Gohan told her.

"No worries. Bulma said that they might be out a little late tonight, so she has invited you all to stay over for the night," she informed him. "Now come along. It's almost eight," as we all drop what we were doing to obey, she stopped me before I could leave. "Trunks, you know better. Put your toys away first. Come meet me in your bedroom when you're done, okay?"

"Yes grandma," I said with a nod.

"Gohan, bring your brother and I'll show you to your old guest room," and she did just that, leaving me behind to do all the cleaning.

As I gathered all of the toys that were scattered around the floor, I stopped for a moment thinking that there was something moving behind me. I looked around, but there was nothing there.

Once I put the last of the toys away I turned to leave the room, but there was someone standing there this time.

It was a tall, black-clad figure standing in front of the door to the room.

"Hello there, little one," the figure said to me in a polite manner, leaning against the door before pushing off and walking forward.

"Hi, I'm Trunks," I greeted as the figure came closer. "Who are you?"


	15. Author's Note

**Hello, my wonderful readers. This is MLH here. I have something important I want to share with anyone that is still reading. This is about my absence and the things that keep triggering my depression. Bear with me, this might take a moment.**

 **I know that some of you may know this already, but for those who are unfamiliar, I posted my first story way back in November 2013. I had been reading fanfiction for nearly 10 years prior and wanted to try my hand at writing something of my own. To my surprise, people actually liked it and started requesting that I make the chapters longer. I was able to keep a steady schedule for a little over a month, until my older brother suddenly had a manic bipolar episode while we were celebrating New Year's. At the time, we didn't what we were dealing with, so it went untreated for a while. It got so bad that we had him committed. By Valentine's day it got better. He eventually got better after he was diagnosed and treated. This was an obvious trigger for me, but I still kept up with posting to keep myself busy.**

 **Everything was going fine until May. On May 2nd 2014, my brother in law, whom I very close to, was killed in a car accident while trying to change a flat tire. He left behind a wife and 6 children. This was when I took my first hiatus. I was having crippling depressive episodes that kept me from, not only updating my story, but also living my life. It took me a couple of months, but I got back to it. Over the next year I would inconsistently post every 1 to 2 weeks, with a oneshot story in between, until I finished the story on the two year anniversary of Everything You Ever Wanted, which was November 22nd 2015.**

 **I almost immediately began writing a new fic, I had nearly a dozen chapters written out, but then on December 18th 2015 my uncle, who had been battling cancer for a while, had died. His death was not a huge shock, but the fact that his siblings(my father's side of the family) did not treat his passing with the respect and dignity that it deserved. They chose to have him cremated without consulting with his children and the family has been at odds ever since. His death was sad for me, but what triggered my depression was the guilt I felt for being too busy to see him in his final days.**

 **In January my sister posted my new story, even though I wanted to finish writing it first before posting, hoping that the response from the readers would make me feel better and get back to writing. It worked for a little while. On April 29th 2016, my grandfather on my mother's side, and also my last grandparent, passed away. This did not hurt me as much because he was in the sunset of his life. What did hurt me was my mother's reaction to this. She fell apart, believing that there was more she could have done for him, seeing as she is a nurse and he was living with her. Watching her lose it like that took me back to March 2006 when my father died and where my depression started. It hurts me so much to see her every day and know that she is still not the same.**

 **With seeing both sides of my family scarred from the recent passing of their patriarchs, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to change the format of my story Chains of Yesterday. I wasn't happy with the story I was writing and needed to change it, but I needed to know to know if I did that would you all still read it. I reached out to one my original readers(you know who you are and I thank you so much!) for some advice and then decided to delete the story. I got so many of you asking me what happened to it, but I was nervous about telling them that I deleted it in order to rewrite it. A lot of time passes and I repost the story under the new title The Book of Bulma in September of 2017.**

 **I tried to get back into the rhythm of posting but found it rather difficult after so long. Now a year has gone by since I reposted the story and 4 months have passed since I last updated and I want anyone who is still reading this to know that I am sorry. My life has been a mess the last few years, but I'm trying very hard to get back to the flow of things. A little more patience and I promise I will finish what I started.**

 **Also, thank you Pete for messaging me about the hiatus and getting me back on track. -MLH!**


	16. You'll Begin To Wonder Why You Came

**" _Sometimes even stuff you expect can still hurt._ " - Jennifer Brown**

As the song comes to an end, Yamcha and I walked towards the back of the room, where we claimed an empty booth outside of the crowd of other guests. We each sat on either side of the curve so that we were slightly facing one another.

"So," he began, waving for a server. "What have you been up to the last few days?"

I leaned forward on my forearms on the black metal table. "Nothing much,"

"What is nothing much?" he asked, loosening his black silk tie.

"Just had to take care of a few things that was involved with work over the weekend,"

"Is that why you ditched me?"

I looked at him, confusedly thinking over his words, when it dawned on me. I hid my eyes beneath my left hand with an embarrassed sigh. "Yamcha, I am so sorry," I looked back over at him. "Everything just sorta got away from me and I completely forgot,"

"What happened?" he asked with a raised brow.

"I don't know if anyone else has heard about this or not, but a few of the company's warehouses were burglarized Friday."

"Was it bad?" he asked, turning to tell the server what kind of drink he wanted. He gave me look that asked if I wanted anything.

I shook my head from side to side and the server left to get his order. "No, not really. It was just a petty theft once you look at everything that was stolen,"

He leaned back against the leather seat. "I guess you were dealing with a lot. Sorry that I assumed something else,"

I looked upon him in confusion. "What exactly did you assume?" I asked with a humorous tone.

"That you just didn't wanna hang out with me," he sheepishly confessed. "And because of Vegeta,"

I looked down at the table in annoyance. "I will have to say no to that. No to all you just said," I said, looking back at him, slightly offended. "You know that I'm not the type to string someone along. Either I want your company or I don't, it's very simple. And I told you that I would try but could make no promises, remember? Vegeta had nothing to do with it," I confidently reassured.

"I know, I know. I just heard how bad that sounded coming from _my_ mouth,"

"I can't really blame you for feeling that way though," I said, understanding that he was referring to how he must have sounded like a jealous boyfriend. "The role Vegeta has in my life does tend to affect some of my more personal decisions, especially when it comes to Trunks. But he does not actively try to control the things I do. He didn't even know that I was planning to meet with you,"

He waved his hand. "Just forget I said anything. We're out together right now, so let's just enjoy ourselves, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed. The server returned with his drink, a scotch on the rocks, and placed it on a coaster along with a napkin before leaving. I raised an eyebrow at this. "Is something wrong?"

"Hmm?" he sounded, taking a large gulp of the amber liquid.

I leaned back against the booth. "Scotch is more my thing after a really tough week." In all the years I had known him, Yamcha had never been much of a heavy drinker. Despite what most would assume about him, he usually preferred something with a lower proof. "You're more of a spritzer or martini kinda guy."

He shrugged. "Maybe I just felt like cutting loose tonight."

I wasn't buying this. He had been acting weird since that day he called me. "Yamcha, what was that thing you called me about last week?"

He downed his entire drink and waved his hand for the server to bring over two more drinks.

"Yamcha, don't try and change the subject," I told him.

"I'm not. Just have a drink with me first, then I'll tell you."

I stared in to his already unfocused eyes and, against my better judgement, agreed. "Fine. But just one drink,"

* * *

"Who are you?" the boy asked me as I approached him.

I stopped and looked down at him. He was below my waist and now looking almost straight up due to my height. I studied his face. He had light hair and big bright eyes, very similar to his mother's, but his face was almost exactly the same as his father's. It gave me pause just being near him.

"My name is Nuru," I told him.

"Are you looking for my momma?"

I shook my head. "Not at the moment."

"Are you a friend of my momma?"

I tilted my head in consideration. "Something like that, I suppose. I was actually looking for you." I crouched down in front of him. "I have wanted to meet you for a little while now,"

"Why?" he asked.

My face was absolutely neutral as I answered, showing him no kindness as well as no threat. "I am not entirely sure of the reason quite yet,"

This was the truth. I didn't know what the plan was for when I actually came face to face with the little hybrid. All I knew was that I had to get a closer look, to see what sort of savage traits the spawn of Vegeta would show. Looking back on it now, I realized that I was only looking for a reason to hate the little boy, a reason to justify my actions.

"Woah! Your eyes are so cool!" he excitedly said.

I promptly ignored his exclamation to ask a more important question. "Where is your...father, little one?"

"Well, my daddy is busy doing something downstairs right now. I wanted to play some more but my grandma says that I have to get ready for bed now,"

My eyebrows rose in surprise at this. "You have a grandmother?" If my memories were correct, the queen should have perished a little less than a year, a month after her youngest son was exiled, before the destruction of the planet and the attempted extermination of the Saiyan race.

"Yeah. She's pretty cool, too."

"Paternal or maternal?" he stared in confusion at my choice of words, most likely unaware of the meaning of said words. "Is she your father's mother or your mother's mother?"

"My mom's," he answered.

I closed my eyes. It was in that moment that my resolve was set. I would fulfill my plans and make everything as it should have always been.

I opened my eyes to find the boy staring at me. Before I could say anything, I felt the not so distant echo of approaching footsteps coming our way. I looked back to him. "Trunks, can you keep a secret?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Of course!"

"Good. I have to go now and I need you to keep this little conversation between us," I hurriedly said, feeling the footsteps getting closer.

"Why?"

"Because I want to come back to see you again, but I can't do that unless you keep it a secret, understand?" he nodded obediently. "That's very good." I felt the footsteps right outside the door. "Now, quickly, close your eyes," he does so without protest. I leaned closer to his ear and whispered. "Remember, tell no one about me," I quickly dashed to his open window and quietly sat on the ledge towards the side of it.

I heard someone enter the room.

"Trunks, what're you doing in here?" It was the voice of a young man.

I chanced a look inside. It was a teenage boy with shaggy black hair and pale skin.

"Your grandma wanted me to see what was taking so long,"

Trunks peered around the room, in search of me no less. His face lit up in realization. "I was... uh... just done picking up everything. That's all." I smirked. He really was clever for his age.

"Well come on, let's go before she comes looking for both of us," he ushered Trunks from the room and turned around to shut off the light.

My brow furrowed in thought upon seeing his face. He looked so familiar, but I just could not place him at that moment. They exited the room and I shrugged it off. A thought for another time I supposed.

I did know one thing. I was definitely coming back for another visit.

* * *

I remember that night out with Bulma as if it were yesterday.

I had every intention of staying beside Bulma all night during her obvious time of need, but then Nathan showed up and she practically threw me in to his awaiting arms. I knew that she just wanted me to have a little fun that night, but I also knew that she wanted some time to herself, so I gave it to her.

I followed behind him as he guided me to the dance floor. Initially, everything felt so awkward for me. I just stood there, not really sure how I was expected to dance to the poppy nonsense that was playing. The only saving grace were the masks we both wore that hid my awkward expression. But then a favorite tune of mine came on and something inside of me just came to life.

I began swaying back and forth, rhythmically moving my shoulders to the sultry sounds of Bobby Caldwell. "Oh, I love this song!"

"I can see that," he said through a smile. He moved closer to me and gently grabbed my right hand. "I like this song, too. Mind if I join you?"

I slowed my movements at his touch. "Um... Not at all," I said, but went absolutely stiff when he placed his other hand on my waist. We began moving together, with me awkwardly trying not to get too close while also trying not to run away. I ended up stepping on his foot. "I'm so sorry!" I apologized, pulling away.

"It's alright. There's no need to be sorry," he told me.

"I haven't really done this in a while,"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Done what?"

"Danced, or even just gone out with other adults," I told him, looking away, feeling my face becoming warm with embarrassment. I felt him grab my hand again and I looked up at him.

He was giving me a gentle smile as he spoke. "Do you mind if I change that?" He pulled me back to him, even closer than before, and I just went stiff again. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm just nervous about stepping on your toes again,"

"My toes will be fine, so just relax and follow my lead." We danced through the remainder of the song without another incident and he pulled back slightly to look down at me. "See? We made it through and no toes were harmed in the process."

I looked down with a laugh and then back up. "I guess you were right,"

He rubbed the scruff on his jaw in contemplation. "I know that you said one song only, but would it be too much if I asked for one more?"

I smiled at him. "I think one more song wouldn't hurt,"

We wound up dancing for a few more songs. By now, he had his arms wrapped around my waist and I had my hands on his shoulders. We were so close that I could smell his cologne and even feel the muscular body beneath his tailored suit. I didn't even notice how close we had gotten until Nathan said something in to my ear.

"Do you want me to get you a drink?"

The simple question sent a shiver up my spine, and I hoped that he hadn't felt me shudder.

"Sure," I responded, almost disappointed when he pulled away, but then he took my hand and led me to the bar. I looked around for Bulma, thinking that she would still be sitting there, and spotted her across the room at a booth with...Yamcha? "I guess they'll let anybody in this place," I said under my breath.

"What was that?" Nathan asked me, offering me a seat and taking his own beside me.

I shook my head. "Nothing,"

"So, what would you like to drink?"

I hummed in thought. "I don't know."

"Well, what do you like?"

"I'm usually just a wine kind of girl,"

"Not a big fan of liquor?"

"Occasionally yes, but not really," I answered.

"Neither am I, though I do enjoy a good bourbon on the rocks every now and then." He turned to the bartender. "Can I get two glasses of '85 Potel, please?"

"Coming right up," the young man behind the bar said, going to the back to get it.

"I didn't think I would find a selection of chardonnay like that around here," I said.

"You've had it before?" he asked me.

"Yes, but it's been a while. My father was a bit of a collector of wines back in the day, so I have him to thank for my predilection for wine," I explained.

"Your father sounds like my kind of man," he mused. The bartender returned with the vintage bottle and poured two glasses. Nathan handed me a glass and took one for himself "So, would it be too invasive of me to ask why a woman as young and beautiful as yourself doesn't go out very often?"

I sighed. "That's complicated,"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I didn't mean to pry," he quickly said.

I took a sip of the fruity wine. "No, that's alright. It's just a long story,"

"I don't have anywhere to be."

I giggled at his sincerity. "That's a story for another time," I told him.

A smile came to his lips. "Does that mean that I can see you again after tonight?"

"We'll see how the rest of tonight goes first," I said to him, giving a playful smirk.

* * *

It was now close to midnight, and Yamcha and I were on our third round of drinks, having removed our masks long ago.

"...I was being forced to wear that ridiculous bunny costume because all of my clothes were dirty, idiot. That wasn't exactly a part of my wardrobe back then," I told him after he had brought up that awful time I had to go around dressed like a Playboy Bunny.

He took a long sip of his drink. "But that was one hot look on you," he commented, obviously drunk by now.

"Hey, I said that I didn't like it, but that didn't mean I wasn't looking good in it," I boasted, slightly drunk myself. I was always able to hold my liquor better than people gave me credit for.

"You always look good, B."

I saw where this was going, so I decided to change the subject. "So. What was this thing you wanted to see me about?"

He sighed heavily, putting the glass to his lips. "It doesn't matter anymore," he said as he took a big gulp.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, what happened?"

He looked at me with unfocused eyes. "Vegeta happened."

I was more than confused by his answer. "Wait, what? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's all his fault. If it wasn't for him and his brooding attitude I wouldn't be the way I am right now, I wouldn't be..."

"That's enough!" I cut him off. "I suggest you stop before you say something you'll regret." I stood up, walked around the table. He had attempted to take another swig of his drink but I took it from him and dragged him up by his arm. "I think you've had enough for tonight. Come with me."

"Where're we goin'?" he slurred as I dragged him along.

"Just be quiet." I searched the crowd until I spotted Chi Chi with Nathan. "Hey"

She turned to us. "What is it?" She looked at Yamcha. "And what's wrong with him?"

"Too much scotch. I need to get him out of here."

"Oh." She looked at Nathan for a second and then back to me. "Does it have to be right now?"

I looked between them and had to keep from smiling. "No, no. Chi Chi, you stay. I'll take him back to his hotel room and I'll leave you with the jet."

She laughed a little. "Bulma, you know that I can't drive one of those things,"

"I'm not asking you to drive it. My address is programmed into the autopilot, so just tell it to take you back home." I looked over at her gentleman friend. "It was nice meeting you, Nathan." We shook hands before I grabbed hold of Yamcha once more. "You two have a nice night,"

After I had left them alone, I gathered Yamcha into his car and drove away.

A little while later and we were pulling up to his hotel. Before I got to the front of the entrance, I saw a group paparazzi camped outside, waiting to greet the all-star player who had just led his team to the last victory they needed to be in the playoffs.

"Shit." I stopped the car and reversed as quickly as I could and went back in the opposite direction.

It was no secret that Yamcha and I were once in a, as the media dubbed it, "a whirlwind romance." Me being called the future of engineering and he a record setter in his first few seasons and a destined future Hall of Fame baseball player, we were bound to be in the spotlight. Every public outing, every argument, every misunderstanding, every woman that shamelessly threw herself at him, not even caring about his relationship. Hell, he didn't even care about his relationship.

After our last breakup, the media put out articles that basically were a countdown to the next time we would get back together. You couldn't imagine the collective gasp of shock that traveled through the talk shows, magazines and blogs the day it came out that I had a child, and it wasn't Yamcha's. We hadn't really spent a lot of time alone in public, so as far as they knew we weren't on good terms.

So try to imagine what would've happened if we had been photographed together that night. Me bringing him to a hotel after a night of drinking. Not the most innocent mental picture.

So, like the genius that I like to call myself sometimes, I decided that it was best to take him back to the compound to sleep it off until the next morning. I most definitely did not anticipate the consequences of this fateful decision.

A little while later, we arrived at my place.

I pulled all the way in to the garage to avoid any possibility of someone spotting his car and shut it off. A visit was one thing, but spending the night over was something else entirely.

I looked over at him where he was slumped over in the passenger seat with his face against the window. I shook my head and got out of the car and walked around to the other side. I opened the door and he fell face first on the concrete floor.

"Oh for the love of-" I reached down and grabbed his arm. "Yamcha, get up."

"Why should I?" he said with his face mashed to the ground.

"Because," I grunted out trying to help him up. "I don't want my son to wake up in the morning to you passed out on the floor. Now get up."

He let out a frustrated breath. "Fine." He looked up at me before clumsily pushing himself off the cold concrete.

I helped him the rest of the way to his feet and allowed him to drape his arm over my shoulders for support as I led him through the compound.

* * *

I wish that I had just gone to bed early that night.

After Bulma's little outburst, yet again, I found myself in a terrible mood, but also at an impasse with myself. Even though this woman was seemingly trying her best to tear me down, I still could not find it within myself to leave. To retreat back to the comfort of my solitude. That was always my first response when things got a bit too complicated for me, but this was not so easy a decision for me that time around.

It wasn't because I needed to stay, or that I owed her for her all that she had done for me up until that point, or that I couldn't survive on my own, or even for our child's sake. None of these were the case. I stayed simply because I was afraid of what would happen if I left again. That she could and would be perfectly fine without me.

That was the reason why this night stayed with me for so long afterwards; it was one of my worst nightmares come true.

I had come inside from the backyard upon hearing the sound of a vehicle approach. It was fairly late so I assumed that Bulma had finally returned. I had no intentions of speaking to her, but I simply wanted to be sure of her presence.

I listened for a sign since I had been having a difficult time sensing her. As I entered the house, I could hear that she was already upstairs. I heard her mumbling something which gave me definitive proof that it was in fact her, but, because my first instinct was to sense her ki, I also found out that she was not alone.

I quietly rushed upstairs upon realizing whom it was that she was with. I reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner just in time to see something I wish I hadn't.

There, leaning against one of the guest room doors, was Bulma. She was being held around the waist and head as she was kissed fiercely by none other than Yamcha.

When they fell into the room, my eyes widened to the size of dinner plates before I whipped back around the corner, placed an unsteady hand over my erratic heart, and then left as quickly as possible.

To this day a part of me is glad I left when I did. Bulma would have never fully forgiven me for what I wanted to do, and I think that Yamcha was especially relieved about it as well.


End file.
